Dealing
by KellBell1
Summary: Finally! It's here! THE CONCLUSION! Life hands Sara the cards of pain, resentment, confusion and sickness as well as the wildcard of unforeseen love. SN
1. Dealing: Chapter One

        Disclaimer:  I do not own the characters found on this page nor do I claim them.  They belong to the brilliant owners and creators of the hit television show CSI.  So, please, don't sue! 

          There was a blast of light.  Muffled screams.  A strong surge swept through her entire body. The sound of shattered glass pierced her eardrums, allowing only a high pitched ring to resonate in her head.  And then she hit the floor…hard.  

          Sara gasped for air as she jumped up from her laying position.  Breathing heavy, Sara reached her hand to her face, fingering the light sweat that beaded her forehead.  Angrily, she pulled the covers off her sweat dampened legs and rested her feet on the floor, holding her head in her hands.  She peered through her fingers at the bright red numbers on her lamp stand, from which was heard a faint buzzing noise.  4:30 A.M.  Sara clumsily stood up and walked to her small kitchen, searching her cabinets for the coffee grinds.  It was of little use to sleep anymore, she thought, when her sleep left her more tired than staying awake all night would.  She figured she'd slept maybe eight hours total in the past four days.  And when she did manage to salvage what little sleep she could, the same haunting dream would find her, leaving her panicked every time she awoke, gasping for air.  As she sat at her kitchen table waiting for her first cup of black coffee to brew, she peered down at her hand, tracing the long dark scab with her forefinger.  

**************

Nick strode through the crime lab, carefully stepping over and around repair equipment from all the construction taken place that week.  It saddened him to see the main part of the lab in the present state it was in: dust-filled and chaotic.  He quickly found a tune to whistle, hoping to distract from the era of hopelessness the lab currently portrayed.  

          As he made his way to the coroner's room, reflection caught on a window wall, pulling his attention towards a yawning Sara, sitting alone behind a desk on the other side of the wall.  He smiled as she threw a pencil down in frustration, stretching her legs out in front of her.  He looked in as Sara's gaze aimlessly wandered around the office, and then suddenly, focused on something.  He followed her stare outside the office to Grissom who was standing about twenty feet away, discussing something with a secretary.  Bringing his attention back to a still staring Sara, he wondered what thoughts were going through her mind as she intently gazed at him, biting her lip.  She had a foreign look of disappointment on her face.  She then held her head with her hands, while her elbows rested on the desk.  Nick heard her loudly yawn again and hesitated before swinging himself around the door to the office.  

"Gooood afternoon," He spoke, his southern twang familiar.

          Sara's head jerked upward, still yawning.  "Huh?"

          Nick chuckled.  "Lack of oxygen flow to the brain, huh?"

          "You know it."  She smiled.  Nick noticed the forcedness of it.  

          "You all right, Sidle?"  He slowly leaned into the room.

          She took a deep breath and let out a loud sigh, looking up at Nick with a shy smile. "I'm better than ever."  

          "And you've never been a good liar."  He retorted before slapping a manila folder on the desk in front of her.  "Case number 77256.  Grissom assigned it to us this morning."  He said while sitting down in a chair directly across from Sara.  Sara looked down with a hurt expression evident on her face.  

          "That was our case.  Grissom and mine."  She spoke quietly and then subtly glanced out of the room again, Nick assumed in Grissom's direction.  

          "Yeah," Nick studied Sara's distracted face with narrowed eyes.  She looked paler than usual.  "He mentioned something about another case he needed to work on."

          "How convenient."  

          Nick swore he saw her eyes moisten.  He hated the pain her face was portraying.  He instinctively wanted to cup her cheek with his hand, but immediately brushed off the notion, scared by the little flip his stomach did at the thought of his hand on her soft face.  _Its okay, Nick.__  It's just you trying to be a protective older brother type, Nick convinced himself.  _

          "Are you gonna fill me in on what's going on, Sara?"  

          Sara returned to meet Nick's eyes and shifted uncomfortably in her seat.  

          "Nothing."  

          "Sara!"  Nick chided her.   He almost wanted to laugh at her stubbornness and unwillingness to talk.  _What is her deal?_

          "Nick, I'm fine.  It's just been a long week—,"

          "You're telling me."  He interrupted.

          "And beyond that, I'd rather not discuss it."  Sara waved her fingers in front of her face, brushing the whole thing away.  

Nick frowned.  He was put off by her comment.  She seemed as if it would really bother her to open up to him, and that fact hurt him in a foreign way.  After a long awkward pause Nick let out a sigh, understanding that something was going on with Sara and that despite her stubbornness, she needed to know that he was there for her.  

          "Listen, it's going to be a long day.  We should start working on the case; the coroner was expecting us ten minutes ago…"  Nick started.  

"Yeah, you're right."  Sara stood up and slowly began walking out of the room.  Nick gently grabbed her arm as she moved past him.  She turned to meet his eyes.

"I know you know this, but I'm going to say it anyway.  You _can talk to me about, you know, whatever.  __Anything.  I just wanted you to hear me say that.  Just so you knew."  _

"Thank you."  Sara nodded.  Nick gave her a wink and Sara rolled her eyes playfully, smiling, before they both headed out together.  


	2. Dealing: Chapter Two

          Author: KellBell

          Rating:  PG

          Disclaimer:  These characters belong to the creators and writers of CSI.   Nope, they're not mine, not even Nick.  I can only dream….hehe

          Dealing: Chapter Two

*****

"So, what is it we are dealing with here?"  Nick asked before entering the coroner's room.  "You know, what exactly should I expect?"

          "Grissom didn't tell you?"  Sara looked irritated for a moment.

          "He seemed somewhat preoccupied."  

          "Hmm," Sara bit the inside of her cheek, in thought.  A minute of silence passed.

          "Uhhh, speaking of _preoccupied_…," Nick snapped his fingers in front of Sara's face.

          "Oh, sorry."  She came to.  "Homicide.  Connie Trevorson.  34.  Bank teller.  Divorced.  Two kids.  Found dead in her home by the oldest one last night."

Nick sighed in disgust.  He hated homicide cases obviously, but those involving children were the most heart-breaking.

"They live on the east side.  Bad neighborhood."  Sara spoke in fragments.  

Nick held the door open for Sara as they entered the coroner's room.  

"Nick.  Sara."   Robbins nodded as he greeted them.  Nick's face cringed as the overwhelming smell of formaldehyde burned his nostrils.  The smell was awful.  No matter how many times he came into the room, he could never get used to it. He immediately wanted to grab the handkerchief from his pocket to cover his face; however, noticing Sara's unfazed coolness as she entered the room, he cleared his throat and sucked it up.

 "Nice to see you decided to join us today."  Robbins leaned toward the sheet covered corpse.

"Sorry we're late, Al." Nick apologized.

"Well, let's get on with it."  Robbins whipped back the sheet unveiling the dead woman. Sara recognized her from the inspection the previous night with Grissom.  

"Take special notice of the neck and chest area."  Robbins pointed with plastic gloves.  Nick's eyes focused on the cut wound on the woman's neck, the edges of skin stuck out, curling upward.  

"Knife….scissors?"  Nick asked.

"Either, or.  We didn't find a weapon at the scene."  Sara answered.  "However it appears we are looking at more than one weapon here."  Sara pointed out the massive bruise markings on the woman's sunken chest area.  The lower bones on the woman's rib cage were definitely broken—shattered as if someone had taken a crowbar to her chest.  

"Time of death is somewhere between six and eight P.M.  Contusions around the mouth and cheeks indicate a firm group by the killer's hand."  Robbins was speaking in monotone.  Sara paused as she envisioned the image of the murder, distracting her.  Robbins continued.  "The weapon to the neck severed the carotid artery as well as other blood vessels which indicate that blood loss was probably the cause of death."

"What did we bag last night?"  Nick turned to Sara. 

"A few hairs found on the body.  Also, a piece of foreign material, possibly from the killer, found on the victim's jacket.  Those as well as sample DNA for possible sexual assault have been submitted for laboratory analysis."  Sara replied.  As Sara looked down at the glazed eyes of the dead woman, she was filled, suddenly, with an intense personal desire to find the jerk that did this.  _We'll get 'em, she mentally told the corpse.  __I promise._

*********************

"I hope the kids are alright."  Nick mentioned as he and Sara walked through the lab.  

"They were taken to their father's after questioning this morning."  Sara spoke.

Nick frowned.  "That hardly seems like a smart thing to do."

"Brass questioned him last night.  He's got an alibi."

"Heh," Nick shook his head.  "Don't they all."  

Sara was about to comment when her shoes crunched on broken glass beneath her.  Images immediately flashed in her head, overwhelming her.  She stopped dead in her tracks and gasped.  Nick, noticing her, grabbed her shoulder and held it.

"Sara, what's wrong?"  

Sara's breathing became heavy and she instantaneously brought her hand up to her face, massaging the space between her eyes with her thumb and forefinger.  As quickly as the images came, they abandoned her, leaving her standing there jilted and perspiring before a group of on looking, concerned employees.

"What happened?  Are you all right?"  Nick prodded.

Sara, embarrassed, cleared her throat and pushed past the people who were now returning to their work.  Unwilling to let Nick see her thrown off any further, she hurried to the locker room to retrieve her belongings so she could head home.  Nick, seconds later, entered the room.  He stood there staring at Sara in the entranceway as she quickly gathered her things from her locker into a book bag.

"Uh, what just happened out there?"  Nick held his hand up, puzzled.  

"What do you mean?"  Sara busied herself, not allowing her eyes to meet his for fear he would notice the same puzzlement in hers.  _Why am I allowing so much get to me_, Sara wondered.  Sure she had a lot on her mind.  The explosion, the uncomfortable confrontation with Grissom.  Remembering the awkward pass she made at him and his clearly uncomfortable reaction to it, Sara mentally scolded herself.  He'd been avoiding her since, and she didn't even want to know what he thought of her right then.  _Shake it off, Sidle, she thought.  But she couldn't._

"Sara…"  Nick approached her.  Sara stood up straighter, making her body tense.  She couldn't allow Nick to see her so on edge.  This was a side of her she wouldn't make vulnerable to her co-workers.  

"If you are going through something right now….I—I know you were right there in the explosion…"  Nick eyes were full of concern.  Sara continued to stare straight into her locker.  "I'm sure you have a lot going on in your life right now.   With the explosion, and now with this new case….I don't know…maybe you should take some time off."  As much as he didn't want to get a new partner on the case they were working on, Nick was more concerned with Sara's well-being.  He understood she had a lot of pressure on her shoulders right now.  The last thing he wanted to do was weigh her down with more unneeded stress.  "I would understand…,"

"I'm fine, Nick."  She turned to look at him, and glanced away shyly when she saw the confusion in his eyes.  

"Well, then what is it?  Is it Hank?"  Nick searched through reasons for her unusual behavior.  Sara almost wanted to laugh at the mention of Hank.  She hadn't even given him much thought since their break-up, or rather, her revelation of his girlfriend.  Sara's mind trailed as she wondered for a moment if she ever really liked Hank…

"Sara?"  Nick couldn't help but want to push further, he wanted to help her.

"It's not Hank."  She smiled, grimly.

"You can talk to me," Nick's voice lowered.  "Please, I want you to."  

Sara looked up at him again and connected eyes with his.  It was something in his voice.  Something grabbed for her attention, pleading with her.  Did he really care that much for her?  She wondered.  All of a sudden, Sara was overcome with the sensation of wanting to spill everything to Nick.  Her nightmares.  Her failure with Grissom.  Her confusion towards her life, her world.  Something about Nick's presence near her, right beside her, connected with hers.  Her mind swirled with feelings…confusing emotion.  

Someone walked into the room.  The moment passed.

Sara noticed the other CSI, making her way to her locker.  Dropping something off before clocking in to work, Sara presumed.  Sara slammed shut her locker, snapping back to the present.  

"I've got to go." She stated matter-of-factly. 

Nick's jaw jutted slightly in frustration.  Sara pulled her book bag strap over her shoulder and brushed past Nick.  

"I'm fine…really."  She turned to him once more before heading out of the room altogether.  "I'll see you tomorrow!"  Nick heard her echo down the hall.  

Nick sighed, hand on hip, the other running through his hair.  He turned to the other CSI and politely smiled before the woman headed out of the room.  

_She'll be fine,_ Nick told himself.  _Sara's a big girl.  She will be able to deal with whatever demons she's facing right now.  Stop trying to suffocate her with your help, _he reprimanded himself.  

And after all, in a world where another human being could slit a women's throat and shatter her ribcage for whatever purpose, there were worse things than Sara closing herself off to him.  

And yet, Nick couldn't get Sara off his mind for the rest of the day.

********

Author's Note:  More to come soon!  I've got an entire story line planned for this….so please R/R and let me know what you think.  I'm open for comments on improvement!  The more people I know are interested…the more I'll write!  Thanks!


	3. Dealing: Chapter Three

Author: KellBell

Rating: PG 

Disclaimer:  You know the drill:  I don't own 'em, they don't own me….never did, never will.  They belong to the owners and writers of the show CSI.  Got it?  Good!  Read on!

********

            Sara sat at her kitchen table, papers sprawled out messily in front of her.  Her mind was on Connie Trevorson.  She was wondering how she died.  Wondering why she died.  It was the case Nick and Sara were working on currently.  She read through various notes and studied the information taken down from the neighbors' interviews.  Sara scribbled sloppy notes of her own as well.  She had only been skimming through the folders now for about half an hour.  Or so she thought.

            "Oh my gosh," Sara muttered when she glanced at the green numbers on her microwave clock.  It was 2:38 A.M….nearly two and a half hours since she first sat down to "glance" at the case statistics.  She rubbed her eyes, clearly exhausted.  Gathering the papers together and stuffing them in various folders, she thought of Nick and his persistence with her earlier that day.  Although she was glad she was currently working with him- Nick was a very dedicated CSI- she kind of wished he would lay off the prodding questions.  She couldn't even describe what was going on with her lately, how was she going to answer Nick?  Although she told herself his concern for her was unneeded, she couldn't help but think of how glad she was that she wasn't working with anyone but him.  

Sara retreated to her bed, wondering if she'd be able to sleep, fearing what would happen if she did.  Her head lay on a pillow, and she listened to the light tapping of a bug on the outside of her window.  Her mind wandered to Grissom.  _What was I thinking?  Sara wondered for the millionth time, as she replayed the images of her asking him out for dinner in her head.  __Apparently I wasn't, she answered herself, recalling his reaction.  _

            Her mind felt a bit fuzzy, and her eyes burned a little because she was so tired, but she hesitated to force herself to sleep.  Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the explosion again.  She even heard it.  Before she could help herself, however, she was slowly drifting off… 

********

            Nick drove through the streets of Vegas, destination crime lab.  He knew he would be arriving to work earlier than usual, but he felt somewhat anxious to continue working on his case with Sara.  He dialed her number on his cell phone while driving.  No one answered.  He figured she might still be sleeping; she wasn't due at work for a least a few more hours.  He decided to call her cell phone to leave her a voicemail, informing her where he'd be.  

            "Hello?"  The voice tinged with the rasp of sleep, and Nick immediately cringed at the thought of waking Sara up.  

            "Hey," Nick hesitated.  "Did I wake you?" 

            "Not really."  Sara cleared her throat.  

            "Well, I just wanted to let you know I'm going to the lab early today.  I'm headed over there right now.  I guess you could say I'm actually anxious to pull overtime working on this one."  Nick said, referring to their case.

            "Good.  I'll see you in a minute then."  She replied.

            "What?"  Nick didn't know everything about females, but what he _did _know was that it didn't take them "a minute" to wake up, shower, and arrive at work.  

            "I'm there.  Well, _here…_at the lab," Sara clarified. 

            "Oh."  Nick furrowed his brow.  "Ok, then.  See you in a few."  He hung up the phone, confused.

            Upon entering the lab, Nick ran into Warrick who was picking up results from processing.  

            "Hey, man.  What you got there?"  Nick motioned to the file.

            "Positive ID on DNA samples from hotel pool 'suicide.'"  Warrick emphasized quotations with his fingers on the last word.  "It's not looking a whole lot like suicide anymore.  I'm on my way to find Catherine to deliver the news.  You got that east side homicide case with Sara, right?"

            "Yeah, I'm picking up the results to some of the samples now.  You seen her?"  Nick asked.  

            Warrick nodded behind him and Nick stretched his neck to see Sara and Grissom conversing alone down the hall.  The light danced off Sara's dark hair as she stood there, nodding her head, while Grissom spoke.  Nick squinted, curiosity creeping over him.

            "Huh.  I wonder what's going on."  He muttered, before looking at Warrick, who was pursing his lips together with raised eyebrows. "What?"  Nick asked, reacting to Warrick's expression.

            "I don't know…I'm not one to believe any of the gossip around here, but there has been some rumors going around lately."

            "Rumors?  About who?"  Nick asked, wondering what he missed.

            "About them."  Warrick nodded again in their direction.

            "_Them_?  Grissom and Sara?"  Nick cringed.  "What do you mean?"   

            Warrick held his hands up defensively and began backing out of the processing room.  "I don't know, man.  It's not like I'd believe it anyway."  He spoke before exiting the room entirely. 

_Sara and Grissom.  __Sara…….and Grissom, Nick repeated the names together in his head.  __No way.  Nick made a mental note to bring up this topic with Sara later.  _It could explain a lot of her behavior, lately._  Nick tried to make sense out of what he just heard, but immediately dismissed the notion.  _Sara will clear it up for me later.  No need to go thinking ahead of yourself, Nick.__

***********

            "I don't know, Nick.  He seemed convincing enough to me."  Sara spoke immediately after they closed the door behind them to the victim's ex-husband's house.  

            "You know better than that, Sara."  Nick retorted, meeting her stride down the driveway.  They both waved to Brass as he backed out of the driveway and drove off.  They had come for questioning after receiving the results from the lab earlier that day.   

            "I just keep thinking about it, you know?  Thinking about why he would want to kill his wife.  It just doesn't add up."  

            Nick laughed out loud.  "Are you kidding me?  Everything adds up.  His wife, a week before she was murdered, told him, apparently very clearly, that she was leaving, with his children no less, for another state and never wanted to see him again."  

            "That doesn't mean anything."  They both stopped in front of Nick's Tahoe.  Sara continued. "She didn't have sole custody of their children.  She wouldn't have gotten away with them without the law stepping in and fighting back.  There's obviously no motive there.  And you know that."  

            Nick sardonically chuckled.  "Yeah, well his hair was found on her body that night… I don't need any motive.  He killed her."  He opened the passenger side of his Tahoe for Sara.

            "I don't see how hair _wouldn't have gotten on her body.  He was at the house earlier that day to drop off the kids."  Sara spoke as Nick slid into the driver's seat.  _

            "Yeah, _earlier that day.  The murder happened at night, after she spent the whole day at work."  Nick started the engine and backed out of the driveway._

            "Well, I'm sure that strands of his hair were on the carpet, Nick.  I doubt the babysitter vacuumed the house before the vic arrived home.  Because there was a struggle with the victim and the killer, it would only make sense to presume that her husband's hair would somehow find its way from the carpet, where her body ended up, to her clothes."

            "Well, no matter what you think, he's still our number one suspect right now after those lab results."

"Yeah, and that's exactly where the real killer wants us.  Chasing after the ex.  Its just too easy."  Sara said.

_Stubborn Sara, _Nick thought and smiled_.  "I'm just glad to see the kids are being placed in a protective home."  Nick spoke as he recalled their young faces from picture frames hung in the suspect's house.  Sara grunted and nodded thoughtfully.  She was there to see the look on the children's faces the night of their mother's murder.  She was glad to know that they were in good hands right now.  _

            Most of the rest of the ride back to the crime lab was driven by silence.  Sara was exhausted, Nick could tell, for she yawned a few times and sighed heavily more than once.  She also kept rubbing the bottom of her lip with her forefinger, as if in thought. Nick wondered why this was so distracting to him.  

Pulling up to the lab, he figured now would be a good time to bring up what had been pressing his mind earlier that day.  He gathered his thoughts, trying to figure out how to ask what he'd been planning to ask her all afternoon.  

            "So, uh, I saw you talking to Grissom earlier.  Was he asking about the case?"  Nick tried to converse nonchalantly.  Sara sat up straighter in her seat, very alert all of a sudden.

            "Um…yeah."  Sara lied.

            "Oh…"  Nick parked the Tahoe and glanced over at a visually disturbed Sara, waiting for her to add to his question.  She unbuckled her seat belt and quickly got out of the car.  

"What did he have to say?"  He pressed.

            "Nothing really," She began walking away.

            "Did he have anything to add to the case?"  

            Sara stopped walking and turned to meet Nick's face.

            "No, Nick."  Her words were choppy.  "Just drop it…okay?"  Her voice revealed a mixture of sadness and frustration.  Sara's eyes moistened as she thought of how Grissom had approached her earlier.  He told her that she put him in a really uncomfortable position, and said that he was flattered but that her employment under him needed to be strictly professional.  Although she understood how he reacted, she couldn't help but feel humiliated as he spoke to her as if she were a twelve year old with a crush on her school teacher.  

            "Hey, I didn't do anything here, Sara.  I'm just asking questions is all."  Nick became defensive after her words.  Then he saw her helpless eyes and his demeanor softened.  "Listen, I've never thought I'd have to walk on egg shells around you.  But if that's how you want it to be,  then tell me what I'm saying that's setting you off.  I'll steer clear of it altogether, if that's what you want," He reiterated moving closer to her.  "Because frankly, I just don't know what it is I'm doing that's making you shut me out.  From what I recall, it's never been this hard for either of us to talk to each other."  Nick thought of her behavior the past week and the awkward silence that was becoming all too familiar between them lately.  "Just don't use me as your punching bag.  I know you must be going through something, but don't take it out on me.  I don't want to do anything but help."  Nick watched Sara kick a rock with her foot, waiting for her to say something….say anything.  

            "I asked Grissom on a date."  Sara blurted out.

            Nick's face scrunched together.  "_What_?"

************

Author's Note:  I just wanted to say a quick thanks to those who have been writing comments on the story.  Thank you, thank you, thank you!  I never realized how important writing comments were until I wrote a story.  So thanks for the encouragement!  I love to know what you think.  As always, another chapter is in progress!  So keep reading and replying!


	4. Dealing: Chapter Four

Author:  KellBell

Rating: PG

Disclaimer:  No, I do not own the characters in this story.  They belong to the amazing writers and creators of the television show CSI.  *sniff* So stop rubbing it in, ok!?  Hehe.

Dealing: Chapter Four

************

"I asked Grissom on a date."  Sara blurted out.

            Nick's face scrunched together.  "_What_?"

            There was a moment's pause while Nick digested Sara's statement.  So Warrick was right.  Apparently, the rumors were true.  Finally, when he looked up at Sara, he couldn't help but smile, not a genuine smile, but a nervous, awkward half-smile.  As soon as Sara saw his reaction she wanted to take the words back.  _As if I'm not already humiliated enough, _Sara thought.  

            "So….you, uh, asked him on a date this morning?"  

            "Not this morning."  She spoke dryly.  "The other day."  Sara formed clenched fists as she turned to head over to the building.  Nick wasn't sure how to respond.

            "Wha—why did you ask him out?"  Nick stumbled over his words, hands fidgety at his sides.

            Sara turned again and eyed him gravely, one hand resting on her hip.

            "I mean," Nick waved his hand around, as if to erase his previous question.  "You like Grissom?"

            Sara glanced past Nick, looking up at the blue skies, shaking her head.  "I shouldn't even have brought it up.  It was clearly a mistake."

            "What, you asking him out or you telling me that you did?"  Nick watched Sara bite her lip. 

            "Both."  She stated, matter-of-factly.  Nick nodded, trying to disguise the relief that had washed over him when she admitted asking Grissom out was a mistake, at the same time, hurt that she wanted to keep it from him. 

            Sara asked herself why she felt the need to tell Nick in the first place.  What had made her blurt that out of nowhere?  _The way he spoke to you, _Sara reminded herself.  He sounded so confused and hurt by the wall Sara was building up around her lately.  She had to say something to let him know that she didn't want him to give up on her.  So she told him.  She told him something she promised herself just this morning she would never bring up to anyone ever again.  And she was mad at herself all over again.

            Sara shrugged with a bit of embarrassment.  "It was a lapse of judgment.  A moment of insanity, if you will." 

            Nick nodded again, assuming Grissom rejected her offer.  He looked up at Sara, who was standing at the bottom step of the stairs leading up to the lab.  Seeing her standing there, looking young and forlorn, made him realize just how vulnerable she actually was.  

            "What?"  Her firm voice interrupted his thoughts.  "What are you thinking?  You're not going to go telling anybody, because I swear if anybody finds out—,"

            "Uh," Nick held his hand up to cut her off.  He realized she wasn't aware of the supposed rumors circulating about the two of them already.  He decided it would be in his best interest not to mention any of that to her as of yet. "Calm down, Sara.  Gosh, I'd like to think you'd know me better than that.  You can trust me, you know."  

            Nick saw the worried look on Sara's face.  He decided it was time the mood be lightened.  "Besides," He began.  "I'd only tell Greg….and maybe Catherine….probably Robbins…"  His words trailed off with a cheesy grin on his face as he met Sara on the steps.  She rolled her eyes and began proceeding up the stairs. 

            "C'mon, Sara.  I know there's a smile in there somewhere."  He pointed to her face.  "It never hurt anyone to smile, Sara."  He joked, one step behind her.  "_Smile, smiles make the world go round."_  He sang.  "_Smi__—,"_

Nick's voice caught suddenly as he lost his footing, tripping over the step, and plunged down before reaching the next stair.

            "Ahh…"  His hands caught his fall in front of him.  Sara spun around, wide-eyed.

            "Pfffhhhh!"  She burst out laughing.  "Oh my gosh!"  She held her hand up to her mouth but could not contain her wild laughter.  Nick pushed himself off the steps, red-faced, and wiped his dusty hands off on his jeans.

            "Glad I could be of some help."  He retorted, dryly.

            "_Smile!"__  Sara mock sang.  "_Smiling makes the world go round_!"  She danced the rest of the steps up, full of giggles.  _

            "Alright, enough.  We've got a lot of work to do."  Nick pushed open the door to the building, holding it for Sara as she walked in, unable to hide the grin that crept over his face.  He was grinning partly because of his own clumsiness and foolishness.  But there was another reason for his sudden joy. 

 He loved to hear Sara laugh.  

************

            They had been there now for three hours straight, scrutinizing over the information collected from the case.  Sitting at a table in an otherwise empty office, they studied, debated, and hypothesized the murder of Connie Trevorson.  Nick was tapping on his notepad with the eraser end of his pencil.  Sara was looking at the police records of friends of the victim.

            "Alright...," Nick spoke up, looking up from his notepad.  "The hairs, they were the ex-husband's, the ripped material found on the victim's jacket was that of a torn silk button up, also belonging to Frank.  No sign of forced entry, no sexual battery, no major struggle, no known stolen items in the home.  Seems to me like Connie willingly let in the killer by way of front door, and was obviously caught off guard by 'em.  So it would probably be someone she knew, someone she wouldn't expect."

            "Like her husband."  Sara cut in, finishing Nick's thoughts.  "Nick, I see where you are going with this, but I just can't buy it."

            "Think about it…Frank comes over to, I don't know, kiss the kids goodnight," Nick was speaking intently, using his hands.  Sara rolled her eyes.  "Connie lets him in, because its, you know, her ex-husband."

            "Nick you seem to forget it was a nasty divorce.  Why would she just let her ex-husband right on in?  They hated each other."  Sara argued.

            Nick held up his hand to shush her.  "Let me finish.  Connie's talking to him, possibly _arguing, and she's not facing him…Now, Franks still pissed off about her "I'm leaving with the kids for good" speech, and who knows, something she said that night probably set him off.  Before she knew what hit her--literally--he has slit her throat and taken a blow to her chest."_

            "Wow, that's pathetic.  Good luck with that story in court."  Sara said.

            "I know."  Nick confessed, throwing his notepad down on the table.  "But we got nothing else.  I'm trying to make rational something here among all this stupid mess."  Nick whined, rubbing his eyes in tired frustration.  

            "Honestly, look at the facts, though."  Sara gazed at all her notes.  "Frank doesn't have a violent record….he was arrested once, for shoplifting when he was younger, about twenty years ago…"

            "Well, past cases prove that seemingly "good" people can be known to commit the most gruesome of murders."  Nick added.

            "Yeah, I know that.  But…" Sara let out a heavy sigh. "I just saw it, you know, the _sadness_ in him when we were questioning him.  He just looked so sincere."  Sara recalled the man earlier that day.

            "Again…"  Nick started to give her the whole things-aren't-always-as-they-seem bit from before.

            "I know, I know."  Sara cut him short.

            "Plus he refuses the lie detector test."

            "Which doesn't necessarily mean anything…"

            "Except that he's guilty of something."  Nick smirked.

            "Yeah, BUT past cases have proven that not everyone who refuses the test is guilty of anything."  She retorted, a "so there" grin on her face.  

            "Well, one things for sure.  We need to find out who our "mystery man" is."  Nick said, reading over an interview from a co-worker of Connie's.  "Although many people claimed Connie went on plenty of dates with various guys, this lady said that Connie had on more than one occasion, dipped out on work early, leaving with some unidentified man."

            "Yeah, we need to find _that guy."  Sara agreed.  _

            After another fifteen minutes or so, Nick had just about had enough with the case.  At least for that evening anyway.  He glanced up at Sara.  She was still immersed in the files spread out randomly over the top of the table.  He watched her jot down a scribbled note and proceed to trace her forefinger back and forth across her bottom lip, the same movement that led to his continuous distraction in the car earlier that day.  _Back_…._forth.      _

_Stop staring, Nick, _he scolded himself and looked away.  Surely there were more interviews he could read at the moment.  He flipped through some papers on his lap and slowly his gaze, uncontrollably, wandered back up to Sara again.  _Back….forth.  _

            Her finger stopped.

            "Do I have something on my face?"  Sara self-consciously held her hand over her mouth when she saw Nick's stare.  Nick blinked, noticeably surprised and feely guilty, as if Sara were a teacher who just caught him looking onto some other kid's test.

            "Uh…you're good."  He nervously smiled and shot up from his chair.  "I've got to call it a night…I feel like I've been here forever."  He rubbed the back of his neck and then stretched, yawning.

            "C'mon, Sara."  Nick motioned his head toward the door.  "You look like you could use some sleep."

            _Yeah, a _dreamless_ sleep, which obviously isn't what I'll get, _Sara thought. 

            Sara sat there and pondered leaving, but felt compelled to work on the case longer.  Something drew her to the case…something that kept telling her that she was _this_ close to finding something, to figuring something out.  She weighed her options, and working on the murder case of Connie Trevorson, whom she'd silently vowed to, promising justice, appealed to her a lot more than tossing and turning all night long, and ultimately not sleeping.  Sara had made her decision.  

            "Yeah, I'm gonna leave in a minute or two…I'll just straighten things up in here and I'll be done."  She lied, knowing that if she were to tell Nick she wasn't going home to sleep, that he'd become angry and concerned with her, and she didn't want to see those eyes again that night.  

            Nick, however, saw right through her.

            "No," he argued.  "You go on and go.  I'll finish gathering all the stuff together."  He said, knowing fully that if he gave her the opportunity to work on the case more, she'd definitely take it.  She looked as if she hadn't had a good sleep for awhile, and Nick knew that her well-being wasn't worth being jeopardized for the sake of a couple extra hours of lab work.  

            "Nick," Sara shook her head with desperate frustration, preparing for his backlash.  "I think I'm going to, you know, stay for a little while longer.  Its okay, really, I'm not tired."

            _What is it that's keeping her from going home to sleep?_  Nick pondered in aggravation.

            "You're joking me right?"  Nick sat back down and leaned forward towards Sara, arms resting on the table.  "Sara, you can't honestly tell me you are not tired.  You've got bags under your eyes for heaven's sake.  You need to go home, get some rest and refresh yourself for tomorrow."__

            "I'm fine."  Sara balked.

            "Sara, do me a favor, and quit pretending like I was born yesterday."  

            Sara cleared her throat and ran her fingers through her hair.  Nick was visibly worried.  "Why aren't you sleeping?  You've been this wreck here around the lab lately, and honestly, you don't _look fine.  What is it?  Is this whole thing with Grissom what's been keeping you here after hours?"_

            "No."  Sara answered through gritted teeth.

            "If we are going to be partners on cases, then we need to learn to trust each other a little better, Sara.  Its give and take." 

            If she told him that nightmares were keeping her awake at night…that the mere thought of falling asleep and waking up in a cold sweat tormented her, would it really make things easier for the both of them?  If she told him that random images spontaneously invaded her mind, leaving her breathless and jittery, would he think she was losing it totally?  

            The leather chair creaked as Sara leaned back in her seat.  She took a deep breath and let it out slowly.  When she looked at Nick, her eyes seemed dull, haunted.  She seemed so deeply troubled that Nick wanted to reach out across the table and take her hands, comforting her.  He held himself back, though, not wanting to upset her.

            "I've been having these dreams."  Sara spoke faintly and stared down at her folded hands.  "They are nightmares, really.  About the explosion."

            Nick intently listened.  Sara shook her head staring off at nothing.

            "I….I thought I was over it, you know, the whole explosion.  But I…well, the truth is, I probably am not."  Her voice cracked as she looked back down at her scarred hand.  Nick had no idea it had affected her that greatly.  

            Nick without hesitation reached over and rested his hand on her arm.  "Thank you."  He voice was soft, almost a whisper.  "For trusting me with that."  Nick knew it was hard for her to confide in people.  She never wanted anyone to see what she thought were her weaknesses.  Sara nodded slowly, glancing up at him.  

            "And promise me this, the next time you wake up from that dream, I want you to call me.  _Anytime_.  I don't care if it's four in the morning."                                                                        

            Sara sheepishly smiled.  She knew his statement was well-intentioned but reminded herself that the dreams still weren't going to go away easily, along with the visions and the state of panic she was becoming accustomed to.  It was eerily comforting though, Sara considered, how much better it felt just to let him know about her dreams.

            Nick squeezed her arm before letting go.  It didn't seem like much, but that gesture gave Sara a brush of warmth that spread through her entire body, flushing her cheeks.  

            "I'll be alright."  Sara tried to convince herself.

            "I know.  You will be."  Nick replied and Sara looked up at him, a little startled at his certainty.  As she studied him, she realized something.  He was wholeheartedly there for her, listening to her, not jumping to conclusions, not claiming he had the answer to her problems, not reacting by assuming she's crossed over the realm of sanity.  He was being everything she needed him to be at that moment.  He was….well, he was Nick.  And that was perfect.

***********

Author's Note:  I wasn't planning on ending the chapter here at first, but I thought I'd let y'all digest that chapter, before throwing in more scenes and making chapter four longer than all the others combined…so please read and reply and as always, **more to come! Oh and by the way, because this is my first fanfiction, please let me know what you think about the length of each chapter.  Is it long enough?  Is it too short?  E-mail me or respond on the reviews please!  Thanks again, to all you wonderful folks! *smiles***


	5. Dealing: Chapter Five

Rating: P-to-the-G

Disclaimer:  As absolutely shocking as this might sound to all of you, I do not own the characters of CSI.  Well who the heck do they belong to you ask?  The fantastic owners and creators of the hit television show CSI.  So, no, I am not claiming any rights to them nor making any money off of them.  If I were, I would have a little more than the buck fifty in my back pocket.

Author's Note:  Special thanks and shout outs to:  drvvh, skyler, Jen, MissyJane, A Bloom, pdhtgal, Moose, Emily, forensicsfan, cRaZyPiXiE, and Sheinbaum!  You all are my daily delights and are the reason for my writing! Your comments are precious to me and when the fic is over and done with I plan on creating a special page for y'all.  There definitely will be personal replies to you sooner or later, either via e-mail or on the fanfic itself.  Thanks again!  You bring me many a smile! :o) 

**If you replied on the review and I missed ya, thanks to you as well…your comments will not be overlooked! ;-)

Dealing: Chapter Five

*****

_Nick stood upright, peering up at the bluish purple sky.  It was odd, he considered, how the ripple-like movements of the clouds made him swear he were gazing up at the ocean. The wind sounded around him.  It must have been cold, yet Nick could not feel it. _

_Nick breathed out and watched the circle like motion of the mist swirl into oblivion._

_A flash of orange streaked the ocean sky, enchanting Nick.  _

_Waves of disappointment rapidly came over him as Nick glanced around, looking for someone who shared the image, finding nothing, finding no one.   Immersed in grief, he prayed for someone to be with him right then, someone to share the sky with. _

_A distant rumble vibrated inside his head.  And then a strange forced pulled Nick's focus to a figure swathed in light, entrancing him.  An intense curiosity mounted around him and Nick, wanting to be near the light, tried to move closer.  Struggling, his feet would not obey him. _

_Nick yearned for the figure; longed to be next to it, ached to be closer._

_And then, suddenly…as if his mind granted his desire, he was pulled to her.  _

_And there she was.  Slender with fair skin, radiating wonder, standing right before him. Nick's attention was held captive by her presence.  He had never seen something so beautiful._

_Her dark hair swayed back and forth although there was no wind. Nick wished his fingers to touch it.  The figure turned and he met her eyes, eyes which left him breathless and in awe._

_Sara._

_He whispered her name._

_The sky opened up.  Rain exploded all around them.  Time slowed as Nick held his hand out to catch a rain drop.  It turned into glass with his touch._

_Shards of glass poured down, reflecting off the suddenly bright ocean above, blinding Nick.  _

_Panicked, he reached out for Sara.  He felt nothing.  He cried out for her, yet could not hear his own voice._

_And then her hand appeared on his shoulder and he spun around.  _

_"I'm right here."  Her easy whisper was heard in the wind._

Nick blinked open his eyes, heart pounding beneath his chest, and lay motionless for seconds there on his bed.  His mind, reeling from his dream, centered on images his brain had just previously created.  He dreamed of Sara.  

_Sara_.

The same feeling that had left him breathless in his dream, overcame him once again.   

"Oh my gosh," he spoke under his breath, terrified by this new revelation.

At that exact moment across town, Sara ear's pierced once again with a familiar blast of light, heat and glass.

Ten minutes later, sitting upright in bed and choking for air, she eyed the telephone on the other side of her room.  It seemed to be silently speaking to her in the form of Nick's tender voice.  She heard his words from the previous day, "_Promise me…the next time you wake up from that dream, call me."  Swinging her legs over her bed, she slowly made her way to the phone.  Her unsteady hand wavered over the phone, _

lingering there for seconds before finally resting on it.  

            Some wounds heal, others fester.  Sara's wounds were festering.  Although the explosion at the lab could have been so much worse, Sara was still dreaming about it.  The dream would lose its terror the moment it would jolt her from her sleep, yet it had not yet lost its power to disturb.  The images were haunting…worse than the actual explosion itself.  The dreams were gradually becoming more graphic with each night.  The images more clear.  That night Sara dreamt of the screams, yet they were louder, more distinct.  She saw the same burst of light, yet it burned her eyes in her sleep as it had not done before.  She was thrown back by the same exploding glass, yet this time the impact more severe, the force much stronger.  And for the first time she was alone in her dream.  She was alone in the lab during the all the terror.

            Now she stood there, staring at the phone, needing to talk to him.  

            _Get a grip, Sara.  Gosh, why can't you just get a grip?_

            She shivered as the sweat that covered her body turned cold.  Although the other dreams left her angry, confused, frustrated, and as exhausted as she was now, the one tonight left her with an overwhelming feeling of helplessness. 

            _What am I going to say to Nick when I call him_, Sara wondered, suddenly angry with herself.  _Hey, I had a bad dream, would you make it all better and sing me back to sleep?  _

_            No way._

Angry tears stung her eyes.  

            _He hasn't a clue as to what is going on inside my head.  I don't even have a clue what's going inside my own head.   _

Sara's throat burned as she held back frustrated sobs.

            She was scared that if she did call him, that if she did succumb to all her emotions and cried to him there on the phone, that it would change things dramatically.  She feared he would take pity on her.  She didn't want to threaten their professional working environment.  Would he look down on her?  Would he think of her as someone incapable of doing serious work?  

_            There is no way, no way, I will let him be burdened with my problems.  He's got a life; I don't need to burden him with mine._

_            I can't let him see that I'm not fine._

Sara swallowed hard.

_I'll deal._

And that was that, Sara had made her decision.

            She clutched the phone against her chest and slowly sank down to the floor, back against the wall.  There on the floor, she let go of the phone that was hanging loosely in her hand, and it dropped to the ground with a thud.  She frantically rubbed her eyes, hoping in vain to push the tears back inside.  However, the tears of frustration, pain and anger were too powerful to contain.  Defeated, her shoulders shook with sobs while the tears streaked down her cheeks, leaving traces of themselves on her pajama pants.  Alone there in the darkness, she let out an angry wail and then spotting the phone resting near her, she pulled her leg up and kicked it across the room with a powerful blow, watching it slam against her dresser.

 With everything so built up within her the past week it felt good to just let go.  So she did.  For hours.  

******

            As Nick approached the lab, a cool breeze swept through the parking lot and rustled scattered leaves over the concrete.  Before entering the lab, Nick glanced above him, taking notice of the grey clouds and anticipated rain.

            He was tired.  His eyes clouded with sleepiness on the way to work that morning, and he found himself constantly having to rub them to keep them from involuntarily shutting.  After waking up from his dream in the wee hours of the morning he was too anxious to fall back asleep.  He lied in his bed for hours, thinking about what his dream meant, thinking about what all these new feelings meant.  As petrified and confused as he was with all these mixed feelings now towards his partner, he was overcome with a sense of tired giddiness.

            _Sara._

He sighed to himself as he thought of her.  _Gosh, what does this all mean?_

"Coffee?"  A familiar voice interrupted his thoughts.  He spun around and his breath caught in his throat.

            "Hey…"  He spoke softly at the sight of Sara.  She was holding two Styrofoam cups in her hands.  He stared at her for a long moment, recalling images from his dream, and found himself momentarily dumbstruck.  "Uhh—,"

            She lifted one eyebrow in question.  "Well?"  She paused.  "Coffee?"  She repeated, raising a cup up.

            "Yes. Lots. Buckets.  Loads of sugar."  He quickly snapped to, attempting to act casual.

            "Good….here."  As she handed him the coffee, their fingers brushed together, leaving Nick wondering why his were left with a tingling sensation.

            That morning Sara had made sure she was prepared and in order for work that day.  Despite her exhausting night, she managed to make herself look and somewhat feel okay.  She mentally psyched up and coached herself before heading into work. The hour shower and four cups of coffee she had seemed to contribute to her adjustment as well.

            "Been here long?"  Nick asked.

            Sara had arrived two hours before to begin work.

            "Nah.  Not long at all."  She answered.  "You look like you had a rough night." Sara attempted to change the subject, eyeing him over.  She wondered for a moment if his night was as exhausting as hers.  She hoped not.

            "I feel hungover.  I only wished I'd have gotten nice and buzzed to earn the feeling."  He tried to make the conversation light, although he felt anything but indifferent.  Sara smiled weakly.

            "Sara!"  

            They both turned their heads at the voice.

            Grissom approached the two of them, holding a folder in his hand.  

            Sara stiffened.  Grissom acknowledged Nick with a nod.  

            "I've got the files you requested earlier."  Grissom held out the folder.  "Randy McMasters.  We've got him in our computers." 

            "Oh? Good."  She hesitated.  

            Nick eyed them back and forth, feeling awkward.  He couldn't help but feel a bit of tension present between them and felt a ping of jealousy watching Grissom speaking to her.

            "Yeah, sorry it took a couple hours to get back to you…I got hung up on another case momentarily."  

            Sara felt Nick eyeing her from beside.  

            "So, you got everything you need?"  Grissom spoke walking backwards, away from them.  "Is the case running okay?"

            "Yup," Sara lifted up the folder, turning away.  "Thanks."  

            Upon entering the break room, Sara turned to find Nick following in behind her.  The firm set in his jaw told her he was irritated.

            "So, you haven't been here that long, huh?"  He asked, staring.  "I don't know about you Sara but two hours is long to me…"  He walked closer to her.

            Sara slapped the folder on the desk before turning away from Nick and heading to the coffee maker.  She needed another cup of coffee…and to get away from Nick's weakening stare.

            "So why did you lie to me? Why were you here so early again?"

            "I didn't lie….I guess I just lost track of time."  Sara kept her eyes preoccupied.

            "So then tell me, Sara, what did you dream about last night?"  Nick prodded.

            "Nick," She shook her head.  "I had a dreamless sleep.  I was so refreshed this morning that I decided to come in a little early.  No big deal."  Sara way over fabricated her story.

            "Alright."  Nick's tone changed, became soft.  "I'm just making sure, you know, that…that you're ok."  

            _If he only knew, _Sara thought.

            "I know…..and I am."  

            She hated herself for lying to him.

*******

A/N:  Sorry it took longer than usual to update!  Another chapter coming up soon!  Please, please and please read and reply.  Oh, and did I mention _please?  ;-)_


	6. Dealing: Chapter Six

Disclaimer:  Do I own them?  No.  Do I want to?  Only Nick….maybe Greg….oh yeah and definitely Warrick… 

A/N:  Special thanks and high fives to:

Jen: Thanks, hun, for your lovely comments.  I couldn't help but smile while reading them!  You encouraged me to buckle down and write another chapter quickly. :o)

Lynn: The dream scene took me forever to write…thanks for the compliments on it…it means much! 

skyler:  Aww, thank you!  Here's the next chapter…

cRaZyPiXiE: Your wish is my command:  I've continued it just for you!  hehe…ok ok, I was going to continue it anyways…but I'm really glad you are enjoying it thus far!

forensicsfan:  Thanks for your thought-out comments.  I'm glad you are enjoying one of the most important "angles" in the story!  :-)  Your replies mean much!

adpi24: So, you want Nick and Sara together, huh?  Well…..you might just get what you hope for if you wish hard enough… ;o)  

A Bloom:  Thank you so much for your enthusiasm towards my fic…I'm glad you are picking up on the messages I try to portray in Nick and Sara.  Yay!

 Alrighty, time to read on…

Dealing:  Chapter Six

*********

            "So, what exactly have you been working on all day?"  Nick asked, taking a seat next to Sara with his coffee in hand.

            "Well, I've done some looking into things…and the file Grissom had given me is that of Randy McMasters…our mystery man."  Sara smiled, proud of her successful detective work.  She motioned the folder towards Nick.  He choked down the scolding coffee.

            "No way!  How did you manage to find him already?" Nick turned sideways, anxious to hear her speak.

            "I made a few phone calls earlier.  Turns out this McMasters guy showed up to one of Connie's dates with another man in this, like, angry fit.  The guy Connie was with knew him from an old job and was able to identify him for me."

            "Wait a sec…he showed up in an angry fit?  Like a jealous rage or something?"

            "Apparently so…the guy told me that the moment McMasters walked into the restaurant and saw Connie and him he just flipped out.  Connie then took McMasters by the arm and led him outside.  The date claimed he sat there for like twenty minutes before Connie returned from her "talk" with him.  He doesn't know what the talk was all about; he said he didn't want to pry too much out of Connie.  But apparently, the rest of their evening, she had this distant, paranoid aura about her.  That's all I got out of the guy."

            Nick nodded intently as he listened to her every word.  "So this is big stuff, huh?  We've got ourselves another suspect."  

            "Oh yeah."  Sara confirmed.  "It's a _big _lead."

            "So, Grissom said he was already on our computers.  What's he been in for?"

            "In 99 he was booked for aggravated assault and weapons possession.  Other minor charges were made prior to and after that.   I've also got here that he was fired from his construction site job for getting into a major tussle with a co-worker.  Although no charges were pressed, it's just another thing to keep in mind."  

            "Seems this guy has some issues.  We got an address?"  

            "Apartment complex.  Wilsher Street."  Sara replied.

            "Let's go talk to Mr. Temper, shall we?"  Nick smiled mischievously and stood up from his chair.  Sara nodded and grinned.

            "I'll call Brass."

*****

            Nick and Sara rode separately from Brass, leaving immediately in Nick's Tahoe.

            "So, Ms. Sidle, I have to say I'm quite impressed with your little investigative work."  Nick smirked, eyes on the road before him.

            Sara blushed a little.

            "Well, the case has been eatin' at me.  It was only necessary for me to dig a little deeper."  She replied and then, demeanor becoming serious, turned in her passenger seat to face Nick.  "I contacted the protection home this morning."

            "What?"  Nick glanced back and forth from the road to Sara.

            "You know, the place where they took the kids after their father became a suspect.  I explained who I was and asked for the address.  I wanna go see them."  She stated with concern in her voice.

            Nick nodded silently.

            "That's great, Sara.  I'm glad that you care enough to check up on them…"  He paused with vacillation.

            "But…"  Sara paid notice to his hesitancy. 

            "But…I don't know…just try not to get _too _involved, you know?  It's a weird situation." 

            "Nick, you weren't there to see the look on the oldest girl's face that night.  I was there…and it was disturbing."

            "Hey, I understand, I'm not trying to say it wasn't…I'm just saying that sometimes when you get too involved in a case, things can get too personal, and the result can be….well, messy."  Nick explained himself.

            "Well, she saw her mother lying on the floor in a pool of her own blood.  I think that justifies a visit."  Sara defensively spoke with a twinge of anger.  

            Nick scrunched his brow and turned to her.  

            Sara sat uncomfortably on the passenger seat, hands folded in her lap, eyes turned back to the road.

            "Sara, I'm not trying to argue with you…I'm just trying to look out for your well-being."

            "Well I don't need a babysitter."  Sara quickly shot back.  Immediately after the words escaped her lips she regretted them, however, her stubbornness kept her from doing anything about it.  

            Nick didn't say anything right away, his eyes staring ahead at the road as he drove.  Sara did, however, notice an immediate speed increase after her comment.

            Finally Sara faced him with an embarrassed smile.  Despite her obvious tension, she let out a nervous laugh.  "I—I'm sorry…I didn't mean to get nasty--"

            "Let's just drop it."  He interrupted, clearly annoyed.  Sara blinked, surprised at his abruptness.  

            Inside, Sara was fuming.  She was mad that she allowed herself to lash back at Nick, who was obviously just trying to be a good friend_.  Stop letting your problems affect your work life, Sara scolded herself.  _If you let this go on, you won't have any friends at all.__

Sara stole a quick peek at Nick and her heart fluttered.  _Oh Nick, she thought, _it has nothing to do with you.  _She sighed to herself_.  You just wouldn't understand.__

_******_

            Brass pressed down on the small button next to a screen door.  They listened to something that sounded like a broken, garbled doorbell chime inside.  

            "Who's there?"  A male voice shouted from within the apartment.

            "Detective Jim Brass, Las Vegas Police Department.  Open up."

            The door was opened with gruffness.  Sara jumped.  

            A short, skinny, 30-something male stood there, a cloud of cigarette smoke billowing past him.  Nick exaggeratingly waved his hand in front of his face.

            "Randy McMasters?"  Nick asked in a professional tone.

            "Depends on who wants to know."  The man spoke in a slimy way, while eyeing Sara up and down.  She wriggled, violated by his glare.

            "I'm Detective Jim Brass."  He identified himself once again, flashing his badge.  "This is Nick Stokes and Sara Sidle from the Las Vegas Crime Lab."

            The sky rumbled and Nick looked up at the blackish clouds.  "May we come in?"  

            The guy grunted, turning around and walking back inside, leaving the door open.  They took this as their invitation in.

            "We've got some questions for you concerning the homicide of Connie Trevorson."  Sara spoke, trying not to choke on the thick smoke-filled air as she entered into the kitchen.  There was a sour smell which made her wrinkle her nose.

            "Uh—," The guy held one hand up, the other grabbing for an already smoking cigarette resting on an ash tray.  "I'm not McMasters, ma'am,"  He gave Sara another unnerving glance.  Nick, noticing this, loudly cleared his throat.  The guy turned away to face Nick.  "I ain't got any information on that lady."  

            "So, you _are familiar with her?"  Nick pried._

            "I heard of her, yeah.  Randy's mentioned her a couple times before."  He gruffed before succumbing to a choking fit.  Nick turned to Sara, eyebrows raised.

            "Is he home?"  Sara continued.

            "Nah.  He doesn't live here anymore." 

            "When did he move out?"  Nick followed up.

            "I don't know."

            "Oh come on."  Nick irritatingly shot back.

            "Listen, I got two other roommates in this apartment.  We don't keep tabs on each other; we stay out of each other's way.  It's never been any different."  The man shuffled over to a drawer and grabbed himself another pack of cigarettes.  

            "Well, then how do you know he's gone for good?"  Brass coughed out his words.

            "He goes in and out all the time.  Or at least he used to, but the longest he was ever gone for was two weeks.  It's been about three or so since I seen him.  He ain't coming back…I know these things."  

            Nick's cell phone rang under his belt and he quickly reacted by punching the mute button.  Sara turned to him, eyebrows wrinkled. 

            "Anyways, like I said, I ain't gonna be much help to you guys."  The man flung his cigarette butt towards the sink.  

            "Well, we'll figure that out for ourselves."  Brass retorted and they proceeded questioning the man, looking for any information whatsoever concerning the behavior of Randy McMasters and what he had ever said about Connie Trevorson.  A half hour or so later, after retrieving as much information as they could, they headed out of the apartment.  

            As soon as the screen door creaked open and they exited the building, rain began to trickle down.  

            "I'll let my boys know about this McMasters fella.  We'll keep an eye out for him."  Brass yelled out before saying his goodbyes and driving off.  

            The rain came down a little heavier as Nick and Sara headed down the parking lot to the Tahoe's parking spot.  Nick noticed a determination set in Sara's walk.  

            "Hey, what's going on inside that head of yours, Sidle?"  Nick nervously chuckled, picking up his stride to meet Sara.

            "We've got to go back to the crime scene."  She spoke cryptically.

            "What?"

            "There's got to be something we missed that'll trace McMasters there the night of the murder."  Sara's resolve alarmed Nick.  

            "Whoa, whoa…slow down a sec, Sar.  We're not going tonight.  No one knows we'd be over there; it's just not a good idea."  

            "Are you kidding me?  We've come _this close to nabbing this guy as the murderer, and you're telling me that it's not a good idea?"  Sara stopped in her tracks and looked him dead in the eye.  This took Nick aback._

            "Alright, let's just say we do go to the crime scene tonight.  The likelihood of actually finding something is next to zilch with all the investigators and police already having trampled through the entire house.  Plus it's been, like, a week."   

            "Gosh, Nick, I've never known you as the kind of guy to just give up.  I guess I was wrong."  Sara turned around, eager to get into the car, out of the cold rain.  She tried to hurt Nick with her words; she didn't want him to think he made all the decisions in their case.  It made her look weak, in her opinion.

            _Unbelieveable, Nick thought and stared at Sara, wondering who she was at that moment.  _

            "It can wait until Monday, Sara."  Nick spoke through gritted teeth.

            "No, Nick, it can't.  It doesn't matter, though; I'll go by myself when you drive me back to the lab to get my Tahoe."  

            Nick let out a grunt.  "Um, _no_,"  Nick's southern drawl shown through his emphasis on his words.  "When you get back to the lab you are going to get into your car and drive yourself home.  You _obviously need to get home and sleep."  He stated matter-of-factly walking up to his Tahoe.  _

            Sara rolled her eyes.  "Oh yeah so I can get like fifteen minutes of crap sleep only to be jerked awake until morning like last night."  She hissed under her breath.  

It wasn't until Nick tightly yanked her arm back that she realized exactly what she'd just said.  She spun her head around, her dampened hair clinging to her face.

            His eyes flashed.  "Like last night?  _Like last night, Sara?_!"  Water droplets flew from his lips as he angrily yelled through the loud rain.  His face registered disbelief and looked as if he were breathing heavily.

 Sara's heart seemed to stop beating.

            Nick's grip on her arm was firm.  He wasn't hurting her, just not allowing Sara to turn away and get into the car, as she so yearned to do at that exact moment.

            "I thought you had a _dreamless sleep, Sara.  I thought your night was __so refreshing that you just had to get up to come in early this morning."  He recalled her words from earlier in the day.  "Why did you lie to me, Sara?  Why did you lie?"_

            Sara's lips trembled, from the cold rain or from panic, she wasn't quite sure.  

            Rain had soaked every inch of their bodies by this time.  It was pounding all around them harder, but they continued to stand there, not budging.

  "Why did you lie to me?"  Nick's voice dropped to just above a whisper.

            As Nick's anger turned to defeat, he slowly let go of his grip.  As much as she wanted to jump in the car and avoid his face moments ago, she just stood there then, breathing heavily, her body not allowing her to move an inch.  

            She shook her head, wishing for the right words to speak.  She wasn't sure how to respond.  Nothing seemed appropriate.  _I never intended to hurt him, she thought to herself while watching him back away from her, smothering his face with his hands, attempting to wipe away the water in vain.  _

            He sighed sharply and tilted his face up to the sky.  "Did you have that dream, Sara?"  He asked her, not meeting her face.  

            Sara squinted her eyes, trying to prevent the rain from clouding them any further, as she looked at him pace before her.  

            "I—I don't…"  She trailed off shaking her head.

            Nick finally dropped his head as if the anger that had momentarily escaped his body came rushing back again.  He held up his hand.

            "You know what?  I don't want to hear it anyways."  His voice was unfamiliar.

            Sara blinked back, stung by his words.  She couldn't blame him though; she understood his reaction, which is what tore at her heart even more.

            Nick ran his hand through his soaked hair as he walked to the passenger side of the car, leaving Sara standing there completely at a loss.  He unlocked and opened the passenger door, leaving it wide open for Sara while he treaded to the driver's side.  Sara's shoulders slumped as she slowly entered the vehicle and shut the door.  

            At that moment Nick got into his side and slammed shut the door.  Sara flinched.

            On the silent drive back to the lab, Sara considered her gratefulness to the rain for masking the tears that so easily escaped her eyes.

******

Author's note:  More to come on Nick's cell phone call…

Thanks for all your fantastic replies…in spite of begging, please,, please, please and please read and respond.  Let me know what you think…Thanks!  More drama to come… ;-)


	7. Dealing: Chapter Seven

Disclaimer:  The rumors are true, they're not mine…thus is life. *sigh*

Thank you muches and $5 gift certificates for McDonalds to(no, not really peoples!):

Jen:  Rain soaked Nick?  Read on girl, and keep a pillow near you this time!  :o)

=):  All the way from Sweden? Wow, that's really exciting..for some reason that means a lot!  Thanks for your encouraging reviews!

MissyJane:  I feel ya, I've been having problems as well on here…however, I'm just glad that you replied at all.   Thanks!

skyler:  Aww, Nick wasn't too harsh, just hurt… ;-)  Thanks for the compliment!

drvvh:  Yay!  I'm psyched that you enjoyed the whole angsty moments of last chapter…read on my friend!

pdhtgal: Thank you for taking the time to write that…it made me smile!

adpi24:  Sorry if I'm killing you, that was never my intention…well, ok, maybe I did want to leave a little question mark hanging there at the end!  *grins mischievously*

cRaZyPiXiE:  Yes, Sara does have heavy emotions in this fic…many a tear in her system.  Thanks for your comments!

A Bloom:  I'm crossing my fingers with ya!  Heehee

pyro666:  Haha…well, uh, if my stories were making me any money I'd drop school in no time…however, its just not going to happen.  Got to get me edumacated. But I'm gonna keep on writing for ya!

Lynn:  Tense?  Good, that's what I wanted to portray…thanks for your encouragement!

The comment meant much!

Diana:  Thanks a bundle…I appreciate it!

Rya:  hehe, read on…

MsCassy:  Ok, I won't leave ya hanging….here you are…

Cindy Ryan:  Thanks so much!  I really do enjoy writing this…its why I do it!

Dealing: Chapter Seven

**********

            It had been two hours since Nick and Sara arrived back at the lab.  They didn't speak as they parted, Nick going to grab his belonging at the locker room, Sara heading immediately for her car.  Although at first Nick wanted to warn Grissom that Sara might plan on going out to the crime scene alone, he went against the idea.  He wasn't one to tattle and more importantly, deep down, Nick knew she wasn't going anywhere but home anyway.

Nick grabbed his belongings out of the locker room and left the lab.  He considered driving home, yet somehow entertained the idea that driving around would help clear his head of the warped notions invading it at that moment.  So Nick drove aimlessly around the city, no destination in mind.  The roads were winding and dark.  His mind wandered involuntarily back to Sara every time he thought he'd gotten her out of his head for good.  

The sound of rain hissed under his tires.  It seemed as if the weather was reflecting Nick's wavering mood. The rain would let up for a while, and then come back down in large erratic drops.  The cacophony of thunder crackles, rain sputter and motor vehicles sounding around him for some odd reason allowed Nick to calm down.  The anger was soon draining out of him, and he found himself thinking rationally again.

He wanted to forget about Sara.  He had been angry with her, really angry with her at first.  In fact, he felt every emotion possible that night.  He was mad that she had lied, confused when she didn't offer any explanation for it, compassionate when he realized she was still being plagued with nightmares, and then angry again at himself  for even trying to be anything more to Sara than just a partner on a case together.  He felt foolish that he put himself out there for her, only to be lied to and altogether ignored.  He wanted to erase all the images in his mind, all the intense feelings that he had been developing toward her.  But it was impossible. 

 Nick realized that he may have been slightly harsh earlier, however, and that it wasn't necessarily his place to hold a grudge against her, especially considering she purposefully didn't welcome him into her personal life to begin with.  She didn't want his help; Nick figured she'd made that pretty clear.  But just as it was in his dream, he was drawn to her.

            Which is what brought him there now, parked in front of her apartment. 

 He stared at the windows for a minute, wondering what it was Sara was doing at that precise moment.

            And then, despite the rain, Nick got out of his Tahoe and moved slowly up to the building's overhang.  

At Sara's door, he raised his right hand and, after only a moment's hesitation, rapped lightly with his knuckles.  

            After a moment's pass, Nick began to panic, realizing he didn't know exactly what to say if she did answer the door.  _What am I doing here?_

Nick took in a sharp breath as the door clicked and then opened.  

            In the eyeblink before Sara realized who was at her door, Nick registered the graveness to her features, the red-rimmed eyes and worn look. Sara wore the same jeans she had on earlier and had replaced her button up camisole with an oversized blue sweatshirt.  _Beautiful, Nick thought and then mentally kicked himself, knowing that that's not why he intended on coming in the first place.  He came _solely_ to apologize to her for being short and anything but understanding with her earlier.  Or at least that's what he kept telling himself._

            Sara blinked, taken back, and her eyes narrowed a little in confusion.

            "Hi," he said simply, quietly.  

            "Hi."  Her voice was weak.

            Silence.

            "I, uh…"  Nick cleared his throat.  "Can I come in?"

            Sara nodded and opened the door further, pulling herself back, to allow Nick room to enter.  He looked as uncomfortable as a person could look at that moment.  His dampened clothes clung to him and his shoes squeaked with water.  Dark wet strings of hair hung in his face.  Sara figured he had not yet been home since their confrontation in the rain.

            "Can I get you a towel?"  She asked quietly.

            "Uh, no, I'm good."

            "Nick."  She said in a slightly condemning tone.

            "Ok."  He quickly gave in.

            Sara walked to a pantry full of bath towels and tossed him one as she made her way back to him.  As she did this, Sara studied his presence.  His face was serious and chiseled, the jaw line strong, the mouth sensitive...

            Sara quickly looked down and drew her hand up to the back of her neck, massaging it.

            "Thanks."  He said after drying off his hair and face.  He awkwardly handed the towel back to her, not knowing what else to do with it.  Sara flung it over a chair in her small kitchen, and then turned back to Nick.

            She stood there, surveying him, and it clicked with Nick that he hadn't yet explained his being there.

            "So, you are probably wondering why I'm here, huh?"  

            "I presume it's _not_ to work on the case."  Sara spoke.

            "Yeah, I didn't come to talk about the case."  He confirmed.  Nick ran through his head exactly what he wanted to say.  He didn't know how to begin.  His eyes danced around the apartment, in hopes of stalling, and then stopped on an opened bottle of Merlot next to a Styrofoam cup.  

            "Merlot, huh?"  He motioned toward the bottle.

             Sara turned to her kitchen counter and nodded.  "Yeah, I opened it as soon as I got home.  I kind of have this tradition with Merlot and rain…."  She half sighed/half giggled while brushing her fingers through the air.  "It's kind of a long story."

            "Oh." 

            "Can I offer you a glass?"  She began walking towards the bottle.

            "I'd love one."

            She stood on her tip toes as she reached into a high cabinet, and came out with another Styrofoam cup.  She let out an embarrassed chuckle and her face flushed a little as she wiggled the cup in her hand.  

            "I know I offered you a _glass_ of Merlot, but will you settle for this?"  She asked innocently, eyebrows raised.  "I kind of always planned on getting wine goblets, but never actually acted on it.  All my others glasses are dirty, which is, like, all three of them."  She giggled, despite herself.  Nick couldn't help but smile at how attractive this embarrassed shyness made her look.  

            "I guess that will have to do."  Nick joked and calmly made his way over to the couch, plopping down, trying to look as easygoing and natural as possible.  

            As Sara poured a second cup of Merlot she watched Nick, his back turned to her, take a seat on the couch.  He was motionless as he sat there, and immediately Sara wondered what he was thinking…why he was there.  She felt terrible at the way things ended earlier, and was uneasy at the fact that, although the confrontation was still very fresh and obviously on her mind, they pretended like everything was okay.  Pretended like they didn't, just hours before, have this intense situation occur between the two of them.  _Is he still angry with me?_  Sara nervously wondered.

            "How are those clothes of yours?"  Sara attempted to break the unnerving silence, walking over to him with both cups.  

            "They're drying." 

            "On my couch?"  Sara teased.  Nick said nothing, just laughed.

            She handed him his cup and they both took a sip of wine at the same time.  Nick then placed the cup on the coffee table before him and brought his hands close, fidgeting his fingers together.  His breath was ragged and nervous.  He tried to suck it in and let it out evenly, so that Sara wouldn't notice.

            "I came here to talk to you, Sara."  He blurted out, eyes on his shaky hands.  "I didn't enjoy the way things ended earlier.  Or the way they came about in the first place."  He put mildly.

            Sara swallowed hard, feeling very guilty.  "I didn't mean to hurt your feelings," she responded.

            "My feelings aren't hurt."  He quickly retorted.  But they were.

            "Oh."

            "Well," Nick sighed. "I guess I was a little hurt that, you know, you lied to me….more than once."  He confessed, his voice just above a whisper, almost as if he were afraid of waking someone up.

            Sara lowered her head, nodding, and pursed her lips together.  She didn't know what to say.  The truth is, she wanted so badly to open herself to Nick, she always had.  But her instinct never allowed her to trust anyone more than she needed to.  And she always wanted to believe that whatever it was that life threw in her direction, that she was capable enough to handle it on her own.  

            "I don't know, maybe I did leave myself too open to the whole thing.  My mom has always said I wear my heart on my sleeve."  He grinned, not whole-heartedly.

            Sara eyed him.  "Did she also ever mention anything about wet leaves?"

            Nick abruptly looked down at his shoulder, and sure enough, a small, wet, brown leaf clung to his shirt.  "Wow, that's embarrassing."  Nick uttered, grinning, peeling off the soggy leaf and resting it on a napkin.

            Sara laughed and he laughed with her, but his eyes were watchful.

            "Sometimes you look so serious."  He spoke softly, sincerely, looking at her.

            Sara met his eyes.  "Well, some things in life are serious."

            "I know, but I find it easier to just brush it off.  Not let it get to me."  Nick leaned his head back against the sofa, tilting his head at Sara.  He watched her reaction.  He didn't want to force her to talk to him, he just wanted her to know that it was ok if she wanted to.  

            He prayed that she would.

            "How are you feeling?" He finally asked, reaching over and touching her arm after she sat there silently, looking distracted and far away.  Her arm tingled.

            _Tired, light-headed, confused._  "I'm fine."  She spoke aloud, allowing Nick to see the doubt in her eyes.  Sara lowered her head and sighed heavily.  "I don't know, Nick, there's just all this stuff going on in my head.  I don't know what to think anymore.  I'm trying not to let all this get the best of me, its just…I don't know…I mean, life's not fair, but I've never implied that it was so this is all just—,"  She blurted out all these thoughts, struggling through her words.  

            It wasn't until Nick touched her cheek that she realized she was crying.  

            "Its okay, Sara.  Just slow down…I want to help you but I've got to figure out what you are saying first."  Nick spoke very, very gently.

            Sara eyes moved upwards, as if she were searching through her thoughts.  Pools of tears rested on her bottom lids.

            "The truth is, Nick, I'm scared.  I say I'm trying not to let all this get the best of me, but it has.  My anxiety, my dreams, they have gotten the best of me."  

            Nick's heart ached for Sara.  

            Sara gave a little shrug, wiping her eyes.  "I don't know."  It was all she could say.  She didn't want to sound any more pathetic and incapable than she already did.  She leaned back the same way Nick had moment's before, resting her head on the sofa, yet stared forwards.  Her body was exhausted.

            "I want to let you know that there is nothing you could say to me right now that would change the way I feel towards you."  Nick was glancing at her sideways. 

            Sara's heart did a little flip.  _What does he mean by that? She wondered, startled that he felt _anything_ towards her._

            Sara pulled her legs up toward her body, allowing her feet to rest on the couch while she hugged her knees.

            "Are they loud?"  Nick asked.  Sara's brow creased in confusion of his question.  "Your dreams."  He clarified.  "Are they loud?" 

             Sara remembered that she had told him about her nightmares already…about the explosion.

            "Yeah."  She recalled images of a waterfall of glass and immediately her arms were covered with goose bumps.  "Yeah, they're loud."

            Sara pushed her hair self-consciously behind her ears before she went on.  "I haven't been able to sleep, Nick.  I'm so tired, and so completely sick of all this.  I just don't understand why this haunts me the way it does.  And Nick…"  She turned to face him, her head resting on her knees, his still upon the couch.  "I really wanted to call you last night.  I almost did."  She quickly glanced away.  "I don't know, I guess I'm just afraid that you'll think differently of me, look down on me.  I hate having this helpless image of myself."  She sniffled.  "I guess I think you'll think I'm crazy…but that's what crazy people do, you know, obsess about something that's already over and done with…"

            "You're not crazy, Sara.  I promise you, you're not."  

            Sara let go of her legs and let her feet rest on the floor once again.

            "Sara, I've never thought of you as anything but this independent, strong-willed, dedicated person.  I've always admired you…"  Nick began.

            "And now?"  

            "I think you are independent, strong-willed, dedicated, and I admire you even more."  His voice was gentle but firm.

            Sara felt a burning in her throat and let more tears fall.  She tried to brush them quickly off her face.

            "I'm sorry."  She cried, apologizing.

            "For what?"

            "For being so….so—,"

            "Human?"  He interrupted.  

            Sara connected eyes with him briefly, and then smiled forcedly.

            If only he could get into her dream, he thought.  If only he could somehow fight it away, ward it off; keep it from ever disturbing Sara's sleep again.   

            "I hate that you are going through this Sara, in fact, I hate it more than anything I can think of right now.  I wish I could tell you that it's all going to be great and go away just like that…but I can't.  That doesn't mean that I don't wish it though…with all my heart."  Nick edged closer to her.  He was being drawn, once again.  "Sara, I want to tell you that I'm sorry for the way I acted earlier, I'm sorry for the foolish way I blew up at you—,"

            "Nick…"  Sara interrupted, her tone soft.

            "No, Sara, I wasn't being understanding.  I was not in my right frame of mind and I acted purely selfishly.  I didn't mean to be so rude…it's just…"  Nick leaned towards her a little more.  Sara intentionally would not connect eyes with his.  Her heart beat rapidly and her mind was going a mile a minute.  "Sara, you make me crazy."  He breathed out.  She couldn't help but turn towards him, surprised at his words.  __

He was close, so close she felt his breath near her face.  She watched him as his gaze dropped down to her mouth.  Sara self-consciously glanced to the side, and when she turned back he was still gazing at her, his eyes dark, almost black, and mysterious.  Nick's lips parted slightly.  Sara's heart raced crazily.  He looked so long and so steadily at her mouth that her cheeks grew very warm, feeling as if they were on fire.  She literally felt his eyes on her lips.  She felt as if his eyes were kissing her.  

            Closer.

            Closer.

            Sara leaned in, wanting so badly to see what his lips felt like on hers….

            _Closer.___

"Oh my gosh!"  She yelped out as she accidentally kicked over the Styrofoam cups right off the coffee table.  Wine rapidly spread all over the table and immediately began dripping off the side, onto the rug.  Nick quickly reacted by picking up the cups and standing them upright as Sara got up and rushed into the kitchen to grab a handful of paper towels.  When she returned to the table she dropped to her knees on the floor next to Nick who was already humbly attempting to sop up the spill with the small napkin coasters.  He reached for some of Sara's paper towels and began gently dabbing them onto the table, as did Sara, making an effort to prevent any staining.  Sara giggled nervously.  

            Their arms crossed each other a few times before Sara began to notice the gentle slowness of Nick's arm.  He dabbed closer towards her hand, very meticulously until finally stopping, and that's when Sara felt his eyes on her once again.   

_            Don't look at his eyes, Sara_

            "Sara…"  He whispered, inching closer.

             Looking into his eyes made it difficult for her to speak.  She tried to convince herself they were just deep brown eyes, but whenever she looked into them she felt as if she were going into a free fall.  That is when Nick reached up and touched Sara on her face.  He spread his fingers, letting them get tangled in her hair.  Before Sara even knew it, she was connected with his eyes once again.

             She knew she was looking at him too long.  But she couldn't turn away.

            He was holding her captive with his eyes.

            Nick allowed his hand to travel to the back of her head and pulled Sara closer.  As reluctant as Sara was a few moments before, she closed her eyes, willing his lips to touch hers.  

            As soon as he felt her kiss, an intense fire spread throughout Nick's entire body.  She immediately brought her hands up to his face as they knelt there, allowing the wine to soak into their clothes, and kissed passionately as the rain rhythmically pattered against the roof above them.  

***********

A/N:  Alright, I know that I've begged before, and that y'all are probably irked to death at me right now, but you gotta, you just gotta comment on this.  I really want to know what you think….good?  Not so good?  Let me know, please!  Oh, and thanks in advance for reading and replying!  You are the greatest, really! ;-)  More drama to come…

            __


	8. Dealing: Chapter Eight

Disclaimer:  Nope, don't own them.  I mean, honestly, do you really think I ever did?

Author's Note: Wow, I can't believe it took me this long to add a new chapter.  Sorry guys!  Who would've thought Human Biology would be so darn time consuming? Yuck. Anyways, thank you so much to everyone who replied on the reviews…you already know how much I love ya!  Honorable Mentions: drvvh, chimaera-104, Jen, MsCassy, Lynn, *MissyJane*, adpi24, A Bloom, SAR, =), hi?, Moose, cRaZyPiXiE, pdhtgal, Fallen-Angel.  You all are superb beings, you know that?  Thanks so much for taking the time to let me know what you think.  It is *greatly* appreciated!

Dealing: Chapter Eight

**********

            Nick stared at her peaceful face one last time before giving her a brief peck on her forehead. 

            "I'll call you later, Sara."  He whispered, almost inaudibly, before standing up from the couch Sara was sleeping soundly on.  He was sure she didn't hear him, however, he wasn't about to wake her up just to announce his departure.  

            So much had taken place within the last twenty four hours that Nick's mind was still reeling from the unexpected events.  

            The rain.  Sara.  Sara's deep hazel eyes.  The way she'd looked at him before he kissed her.  Kissing her…

            Nick smiled and bit his lip.  At the mere thought of it, high wattage bolts shot straight down his spine, leaving him with tingles in his fingertips. 

            They had stayed up most of the night, talking and laughing.  After their initial kiss they just sat there on the floor, holding each other, appreciating each other's presence.  Then they talked for hours, whispering fears and confessing thoughts they hadn't told anyone before.  It wasn't until dawn that Sara finally fell asleep.  Nick watched her for awhile before finding himself dozing off, his back against the wall adjacent to the couch.   

            Nick considered for a moment the potential complicacy with this new situation.  Questions invaded his thoughts:  _How will this affect work?  What if it doesn't work out? Does she feel as strongly for me as I do for her?   Will this ruin the friendship?  What will people say?  _

Nick knew he was already in deep.  He had never felt this way before about anyone.  He didn't have all the answers, and frankly, he didn't have to.  She was right for him; of that he was certain.  

Upon entering his Tahoe, Nick's eyes caught on his cell phone, which had been left in the car overnight.  A green light blinked to let him know he had a voicemail.  He immediately remembered the phone call from the interview with McMaster's old roommate the day before and guessed the voicemail was left then.  

He held the cell up to his ear while driving, and heard an automated voice tell him he had one new voice message received yesterday at five-forty p.m.  

"Hey Nicky, it's Heather.  I'm on my way to Vegas right now as I speak.  I told you a few months back that I was looking into that Vegas firm and, guess what, I have an interview with them Monday!  I really lucked out…we'll see what happens with that.  I might be moving to your city!  Anyways, I'll be down for a few days and am counting on seeing you…It's just been too long.  I don't care how busy your schedule is—no excuses!  Alright, so call me back on my cell or you can reach me at the Stratford Hotel—I'll be in tonight by eight. Talk to you soon."  

            "_End of new messages."_

            Nick stared at the cell phone in thought.

            Heather Baleigh.  Nick's high school buddy turned two year romance.  It ended nastily a year into college, which is why Nick was so surprised that Heather seemed adamant on continuing their correspondence, whether it be through e-mail or phone, throughout the years.  She still lived back in Texas, yet never let more than a few months go by without calling or e-mailing him to update him on all the latest with her.  She was lawyer, a very successful one at that, who prided herself on her winning streak with her cases.  She was independent, very opinionated, stubborn, and a get-what-I-want type woman.  She had a way about her.  It was hard for Nick to put his finger on exactly what it was that was so intriguing about Heather…which was probably why she was never single; men love mysterious women.  

            The last time Nick saw her was four years back at a Christmas party in his hometown while visiting for the holidays.  She was very drunk and very flirtaceous with all the testosterone surrounding her at the party. 

            "You," Nick recalled Heather's slurred voice, as she pointed at him. "You have turned into a swan."  

Nick grinned as he drove, remembering the words that she had spoke to him after seeing him for the first time since college.  When she initially said that to him, Nick took it as an insult, considering that in order for him to have "turned into a swan," he must first have been an ugly duckling.  However, looking back now, the statement just made Nick laugh.  He could care less if Heather thought she was dating an ugly duckling back in high school.  Besides, they were the words spoken from a confused, drunken woman.  What did she know anyway?    

            Dialing her cell phone number, Nick debated what would be the best way to let her down.  He just didn't have the time for a visit from Heather, and considering their history, didn't think it would be the best idea. 

********

            Sara had always heard the cliché, "floating on a cloud."  She had never really considered its true meaning, however, until now.  Sara was indeed floating on a cloud.  

            _More like dancing on a cloud, s_he giggled to herself as she stepped out of her apartment.  The night before was…amazing.  Absolute bliss.  She was completely giddy with emotion.  Although she couldn't quite pinpoint what exactly was going to happen with her and Nick, where exactly it would go from there, she knew something incredible, indescribable, had occurred between them.  She wanted to box up the memory of the night, save it forever.  Sure, unanswered questions tugged at her mind, but Sara knew one thing for certain.  She had never slept better than she had last night in the presence of Nick.  

            She strolled to her car, keys jingling at her side, humming a mindless song.  The sun shone magnificently; the grass couldn't have been greener.  Water puddled in areas of the parking lot, remnants of the previous day's storm, sparkling blue sky reflecting off of them.  Sara considered jumping on one, however, she held herself back, not exactly wanting to soak her jeans and also remembering that she wasn't in third grade anymore. 

            Sara entered her vehicle and pulled her dark hair into an elastic band.  She caught a glimpse of herself in her rearview mirror, and brought her fingers up to her lips, tracing them back and forth, remembering the sensation of last night's kiss.  

            "Sara, Sara, Sara.  What _have_ you gotten yourself into?"  She spoke to herself in the mirror and then smiled with delight.  

            Whatever this was, Sara thought, she had never experienced it with Hank and as far as she knew, not with Grissom.  

            Nope, this was something she was sure not many people had ever experienced.

            So with all the excitement and new found motivation, why in the wee corner of her mind, did all this scare her so?

********

            "Hi, my name is Sara."  She smiled as she slowly took a seat on the tight blue carpet.  Charlie Trevorson was sprawled out on the floor, stomach down, elbows holding himself up, feet bouncing up and down off the floor.  He was making siren noises as he played intently with a large, flashy, plastic fire truck.  Claire, the older of the two, probably around seven years old, Sara presumed, was also sitting on the floor.  Unlike her young brother Charlie, however, Claire was fully aware that Sara was attempting to talk to her, which was why her eyes were focused solely on her hands in her lap.  

            Sara had been planning on visiting them ever since she saw Claire the night of her mother's murder.  Sara in her experience as a CSI had always been exposed to tragic cases, more so than she had ever wanted to see in her lifetime, yet this one was somehow different.  The case lingered over her head at all times, begging for her attention.  And the poor children, she thought.  They were innocent, precious bystanders who were involved in something so horrifying that Sara felt it would've been a crime not to be there for them.  Despite Nick's concerned caution about not getting too involved, Sara drove the thirty minutes to the children's "safe house," a very temporary foster home used in situations like this, to visit with them.  It was something that she felt compelled to do, something that she needed to do.  Yet, now, actually sitting down in the presence of them, she was at a loss of what to say exactly.  

            "I like your shoes," Sara spoke to Claire, motioning towards her sparkling pink, princess sandals.  "I wish _I_ had a pair like that."  Sara enthused.  The girl's head hung down.  Then Sara watched as the shy girl's eyes slowly traveled to Sara's boots and then back to her own jeweled shoes.  "What's your name?"  Sara spoke softly, wishing the girl would respond to the question Sara already knew the answer to.

            "Her name is Tinkerbell!"  Charlie rang in loudly, and then, continued to happily smash his fire truck into the carpet.

            _The poor kid,_ Sara thought.  He was so content laying there, absorbedly playing with his toys.  Too young to even comprehend what had just happened a week beforehand that will dramatically affect the rest of his life.  Sara's heart ached for him.

            "Tinkerbell, eh?"  Sara responded, eyebrows raised.

            "My name's Claire."  She quietly reacted.  "Only mom called me Tinkerbell."

            "Tinkerbell, Tinkerbell."  Charlie sang in the corner, oblivious.  

            "Oh."  Sara nodded.  "I love the name Claire.  I named one of my horses Claire when I was younger."

            The young girl looked up at Sara.  "You had a horse?"  She asked, surprisingly curious.  Sara muffled a laugh.

            "Well, not a _real horse.  It was about this big," Sara sized up the horse's length with her hands.  "My Barbies' rode on it."_

            "I love horses."  Claire stated.

            "Well, then, I'll have to bring you Claire the Horse someday.  Will that be alright with you?"  

            The girl nodded.  

            Silence.

            "Are you here to take me to my daddy's?"  The girl finally spoke up.  Sara wondered briefly how much longer the children would have to stay fostered for.  The chances of the department returning the kids to their father's house while he still remained a suspect were slim.

            "No, I'm afraid not.  He misses you, though.  He told me to tell you that he loves you."  Sara said.  The young girl looked very sad, and began playing with her hands again.  

            "Claire, do you like cookies?"  She asked, hating the sadness displayed on Claire's face, attempting to get her mind on something else.  Claire failed to say anything.  She sat there expressionless.

            "Hey, Charlie.  Does Claire like cookies?"  

            Charlie's head sprang up in attention.

            "Oh, she loooooves cookies."  He slowly inched his way over to Sara, driving the fire truck along with his hand.  "So do I."  He shook his head eagerly.

            "Really?  Hmmm…what kind do you two like?"  Sara pulled her bookbag out from behind her.  Claire's eyes flicked up, watching Sara rummage through her things.

            "We loooooove chocolate chip.  And sugar cookies.  With sprinkles!"  Charlie sang.

            Sara fake gasped with surprise. "No way!  That's just what I've got here!"  She pulled out a box of assorted fresh cookies from a local bakery.  Charlie's eyes flashed with excitement and he clapped his hands.  She opened the box and Charlie instantly dug in.  "Do you want one?"  Sara held up a cookie in front of Claire.  Claire shrugged.  And then nodded immediately after.  As Claire munched on her cookie she looked up at Sara and smiled.

            Cookies.  Sara knew the key to a child's heart; she was no dummy.

********

            "So….how's your cappuccino?"  

            "Delicious, thanks."  Heather smiled up at Nick after taking a sip and resting the large mug back on the small table before them. 

            After fully intending on turning down a visit from Heather, somehow she had managed to sway Nick into meeting her at a popular café in the city.  _It's not like she twisted your arm or anything, Nick reminded himself.  He figured a short visit at a public place was as innocent as they come, and at her suggestion, Nick had already been craving a tall mocha.  _Nothing wrong with catching up with old friends, _he told himself on the way there._

            It was ironic though, he considered, how his initial intention was to decline the offer for meeting up with her.  She always did manage to get what she wanted…

            "Wilkins says hi.  I saw him at a party last week and told him I'd be seeing you this weekend."

            "Chopper?!  Man, its been forever since I've seen him."  Nick laughed as he recalled his old high school buddy, Wilkins, aka "Chopper."  All three of them were inseparable back in their sophomore year.  

            "Its been forever since you've seen _anyone."  Heather retorted, pulling off her business jacket to reveal a cream colored sleeveless top.  She sat the jacket on the back of her chair and then returned to her drink.  "It's just not the same without you, Nicky."  She spoke in that familiar southern twang.  _

            "Tell me, does anyone actually take you seriously in the courtroom with that drawl of yours?"  Nick teased, taking a sip of his mocha.  

            She chuckled.  "You'd be surprised.  Besides, look who's talking."  

            "Nah, mine has softened.  Yours is still fresh out of Texas."  

            She playfully rolled her eyes. 

            "So, you still party it up, huh?"  Nick recalled her previous statement.

            "Eh, here and there.  I manage to have fun in my spare time…which, I might add, is very little."  She tucked her blond curls behind her ears.  "Boy, do you look different."  She eyed him.  Nick squirmed a little in his chair.  

            "I guess I'm not a swan anymore, huh?"  Nick smiled, his eyes on his cup.

            "A swan?"  She narrowed her eyes in confusion.  As if a light bulb just then clicked on in her head, she gasped.  "Oh my goodness!  I can't believe you actually remember that remark.  Wow."  More laughing.  

            "I'm surprised _you remember that remark.  You weren't exactly Miss Coherent that night."  _

            "Oh jeez.  I wasn't _that_ bad."  She retorted.  "A girl can hold her liquor, ya know."

            _Yeah, right, Nick thought.  He looked back up at her and caught her staring at him, biting her lip._

            "Congratulations on the interview, Heather."  He quickly brought up another topic.

            "I haven't gotten the job yet."

            "Well, from what I hear it's a pretty big deal just to get an interview with them.  It's quite the well known law firm."  Nick added, yet as he looked at her, wondered if she even heard what he had just said.  She was gazing down at her mug intently.  He rolled his shoulders back, uncomfortably, and sighed.  He was all of a sudden very uneasy sitting there with her.  It was just not a natural thing to meet up with someone you haven't seen in so long and expect everything to be just as easygoing as it had been before.  _Was it ever easygoing with her? _ He wondered.

            She sighed and smiled at Nick.  "I've really missed you, Nick."  She finally spoke.

            He cleared his throat.  "Well, yeah, uh, I've missed you too."

************

            Sara sang along to the radio as she headed back home on her day off.  The visit with the children had gone better than expected and she was so glad the images of their grief stricken faces that had been haunting her throughout the week could finally be replaced with joyous smiles from when she just was with them.  

            Sara leaned forward to peer up at the blue sky while she drove.    

            "What an amazing day."  She smiled to herself.

            A sudden craving to see Nick, to be in his presence, to tell him all about her morning, spiraled through Sara and without hesitation she began driving in the direction of Nick's home.  

            Sara grabbed a separate box of cookies she had bought solely for Nick earlier that day out of the backseat of her car before treading up the walkway to Nick's front door.  

            She rapped with her knuckles and waited.

            Waited.

            And waited…

            After knocking several times without receiving a response, Sara finally acknowledged that he wasn't home.  She bit her lip for a moment in contemplation as she looked down at the box full of cookies.  Should she leave them for him?  

            _He probably won't be out much longer…_

_            Sara jogged to her car to retrieve a piece of paper and grabbed a pen out of her purse as she headed back up to Nick's front door.  She set the box down as she held the paper up to the door and began scribbling a message._

            _Sorry I missed you.  Thought you'd be home.  Here's a little something to let you know I've been thinking about you.  Call me when you get home!  I've got so much to tell you.  –Sara_

_            She positioned the note under the bow she had asked the bakery lady to place on the box and then set it on a chair right outside his front door.  _

            Sara smiled one last time, glancing back at the box, before heading back to her car.

            Nothing says "welcome home" like a box of chocolate chip peanut butter cookies, she thought.

            Sara planned on searching through the yellow pages when she arrived back at her apartment.  Nick had gently told her how helpless it made him feel that she wasn't able to get over these "recurring nightmares and haunting images."  He told her that it scared him to know she was being plagued by things he couldn't control. He explained that in most cases, time would heal the wound, but strongly suggested that she talk to someone, someone who might know why she couldn't escape these chronic nightmares.  Sara rejected the idea at first.  _What sane person needs to talk to a psychiatrist?  She had wondered.  Yet she reconsidered his suggestion, knowing that although the nightmares did not come when Nick was with her the previous night, there was no guarantee that they wouldn't creep back into her life.  _I'll look for a number to call._  __Just in case they come back. Just in case.  _

            Because Sara knew that although Nick had seemed to be the perfect prescription to her night terrors, she wasn't about to ask him to be there for her every night.  That was definitely not something she was ready to ask of him.

            "Well, looky here…" Sara murmured slowing her vehicle at the sight of Nick's Tahoe parked outside a busy café.  _Perfect, Sara considered pulling into the parking lot, _we can talk over a cup of coffee.  _She beamed, feeling lucky to have spotted his car from the road.  She pulled up in the space next to his car just as her heart started racing, anxious to be near him again.  _

**********

            "No, Nick, I mean I've _really _missed you."  Heather leaned closer to him, setting her mug aside.  She gazed into his eyes.

            "Uh, I don't quite think we're on the same page here…" Nick reacted by quickly picking up his cup and holding it near his face.  

            "Nick…no one has ever held a candle to you.  Ever."  Her voice was firm, yet eerily seductive.  She smoothly clasped Nick's hand and gently guided the cup back to the table.  "_Ever_."  She whispered again, and then pulled his face to hers, kissing him with all her might.  

            _Clang._

            The bell jingled as Sara pushed open the door to the café and searched the building.

            Her eyes immediately caught on Nick.  Long, blond, perfect curls curtained his face, as he was locked in a kiss with a young woman.

            Sara let out a just audible gasp of air as her jaw fell, eyes open in disbelief.

            "Oh my gosh."  She barely choked out.  Sara's heart seemingly ceased to beat.

            She turned her head sideways, unwilling to see anymore, and brought her hand up to her mouth, covering it in absolute revulsion. Feeling as if she were going to physically be sick, Sara quickly turned around and bolted out of the café as fast as her feet would take her.

            _Clang._

Author's Note:  Ahhh, you all hate me!!!!! Oh people, come down…just trust that I know what I'm doing…hehehe.  I'll try and be back with the next chapter as *soon as possible*!  Oh, yeah, can you let me know what you thought?  There's a tiny lil' blue button with the word "GO" on it at the bottom on the screen…yeah!  That one!  Go for it! Give it a click!  I want to hear from you!  Give me your thoughts…please?  More to come…

  


  
  



	9. Dealing: Chapter Nine

Disclaimer:  I do not own these characters.  Short and sweet.

Author's Note:  Okay, let's see here.  I've been told I was evil and you all hate me here.  So I'm done.  No more writing.  Goodbye forever.  No more chapters for you!  

Hehe

Okay, I apologize for my goofiness…it's been a weird day.

Shout outs: **Jen:  you are the coolest!  You always reply right away…thanks so much for that!  Hope you like this chappie! **skyler**: Its so awesome to see people "looking forward" to my next chapter!  Thanks! **adpi24**: you left out the hot fudge and marshmallow topping, but I'll give you the next chapter anyways…here ya go. Teehee  ****cRaZyPiXiE: Ahhh!  Don't die!  It's just a story! :o) Thanks! ****Lilly:  You see, I leave chapters hanging for a reason…its all part of the BIG PLAN! *grins* **=):**  I love your reviews!  They are great!  Thanks for your encouraging, enthusiastic, thought out comments!  It means much..really! ****MissyJane: Poor Sara, _and poor Nick(he was the victim here!)well, kind of…thanks for the reply! _****oceanwave: yeah, you always got to have a little shake up here and there…we'll see what happens with this one. Thanks!  **A Bloom: **yikes, was that you I saw marching down the road towards my house with flamed torches?  Heehee…thanks for your replys!  They are great!  ****Diana: was that you marching along with A Bloom?  heehee, I'm so glad you like it thus far!  ****PassionatePapist: YaY!  Your review brought a chuckle or two to my life!  I smile every time I read it!  Thanks!  ****pdhtgal: That Heather and her paws…she's a nasty one!  Thanks for your comments! **drvvh**:  DUDE! (Laughs) Your excitement in the review motivated me to get on with my story…this was posted sooner than I had expected!  Thanks!**

Dealing: Chapter Nine

***********

            "What are you doing?!"  Nick broke himself away from Heather's forced kiss, blinking in disbelief at what just took place between them.  She giggled and bit her lip, looking down with a purposeful coyness, and gently tucked a strand of golden curl behind her ear, a move that, ten years before, would have made Nick swoon, yet now he found terribly annoying.  

"Nick, I think you know what I'm doing."  The velvety seductiveness in her voice that she was blatantly trying to emit was not lost on Nick.  He pushed the chair back, creating distance.

"This was a bad idea.  I shouldn't have come here with you."  Nick heaved a rigid sigh and ran his fingers through his hair.  He felt embarrassed.  Had he given Heather the wrong impression?  _No, Nick, she came here for one thing only.  She knew what she was doing even before I had arrived._

"Nick," Her voice pleaded as she inched towards him.  She placed one hand on his chest.  "We make sense.  You and me together.  We just make sense."

"No."  Nick's voice was firm and low.  He removed her hand from his chest.   "Maybe we made sense ten years ago, but things have changed.  I've moved on, Heather.  Its time you do too."  He shook his head at his own foolishness for thinking he and Heather could meet solely to "talk and catch up" as her invite had suggested.  "This is not something I want."  He added, then quickly stood up and pulled a five out from his billfold, tossing the money on their table.  He looked at her face one last time, a face expressing defeat with a twinge of sadness.  She nodded with her head down, accepting his rejection. 

"Goodbye, Heather."  And with that he turned and walked out of the café, feeling perfectly content would he never see Heather again.

*********

            Sara had never driven this fast before.  As soon as she exited the café where the scene before her was that of Nick kissing another woman, a more attractive, elegant woman at that, the detached numbness that she had immediately experienced gave way to anger, revulsion, frustration, and a host of other unpleasant emotions.

            As if to taunt her, images of her and Nick together at her apartment where they had shared what seemed like the most intimate kiss of each other's life, came flooding through her mind.  Fragmented sentences from last night, spoken from Nick, echoed in her thoughts. 

 _I admire you. _

_ Sara, you make me crazy. _

_ This couldn't feel more right._

Lies, Sara thought, nothing more than lies.  

            Buckets of tears threatened to spill from her eyes as she stared at the unfamiliar road ahead of her.  She had been crushed, her very heart felt as if it were bleeding from a torn wound.  It was amazing to her how fast she had gone from being absorbed in idyllic happiness earlier that day, to now, wishing Nick Stokes had never stepped foot into her life. 

            She had never been so ashamed of herself.  Why had she assumed it was okay to open herself, to give so much of herself to someone in so little a time?  Why did she fall for him?  

_When have you known Nick to be anything other than a womanizer?  Has he ever been in a serious relationship?  What exactly made you think he'd change for you, YOU, Sara Sidle, among all people?_

_ Boy, Nick, did you make a fool out of me, _she thought.  The fact that she had been so excited, so anxious, to see Nick to tell him about her day made her nothing less than nauseous.__

The strong memory of the night before with Nick, however, would not escape her thoughts.

He had watched her so intently, staring at her, kissing her with his eyes, as he sat next to her in her apartment.  _Sara, he had whispered her name so longingly.  She believed that he wanted to kiss her, that he ached for it as much she did at that moment.  When their lips had met, all the doubts and fears had melted away in the contentment and desire that surrounded her.  Nick had been intoxicating._

And then her thoughts were immediately overshadowed by the scene at the café that she just witnessed.  Nick's soft lips kissing another woman.  She released a loud angry sob that had been building up in her throat.

Entrusting so much to Nick that night was a simple act of faith, and it had been so easy.  _If it's too good to be true, the popular saying went, __it probably is.  She had known that all along, she even felt it very strongly earlier that day, yet she nevertheless refused to believe it._

In less than twenty-four hours her world had crashed down around her…again.  

As if she wasn't already going through enough…

_Why?  _Sara yearned for answers.  _Why?_

***********

            _Why do I feel so guilty, _Nick wondered for the billionth time as he drove back to his house.  _I didn't do anything wrong…I didn't kiss her, she kissed me._

Maybe it was because somewhere deep down he knew that Heather harbored ulterior intentions for wanting to meet up with him.  It was the first thing that crossed his mind when he heard her recorded voice message.  

He couldn't brush off the guilty tinge, as if he could have prevented the whole uncomfortable mess.  On second thought, he knew he probably could have.  He shouldn't have been there in the first place…he recognized that.

Within seconds, beaded perspiration formed on his upper brow, as he thought of Sara.  

_Sara…_

Just her name made Nick's heart palpate with desire.

Should he tell her that an ex-girlfriend of his came on to him; that this girl actually planted a "big one" on him?  _No way, Nick answered himself,__ I * cannot* tell her what happened.  What she didn't know about Heather, the better.  That kiss was purely a mistake…no need to go pouring salt in an open wound.  She was already going through a mass of emotions with the explosion, the awkwardness with Grissom, the new case, and now with this developing thing with him…why add to that mess?  There was no way he would take a chance blowing this new thing with Sara.  The thought of losing Sara so soon to something so trivial was terrifying to Nick.  What if she couldn't see past the fact that he didn't even kiss Heather back, that it was merely one-sided?  __Nope, can't tell her, he repeated.  With a satisfied nod, he reminded himself: __What she doesn't know can't hurt her._

********

            The weatherman was on his side today, Nick thought, as he hopped out of his car and headed up to his front door.  He took a second to peer up at a cloudless sky and mused at how dramatically different the day before had been.

            Then as Nick's gaze dropped back down his eyes focused on a box sitting on a chair in front of his threshold.  He squinted in curiosity and jogged up the three steps leading up to his front door.  He shook his head and laughed softly as he picked up a box of assorted cookies, reading the note.

            _Sorry I missed you.  Thought you'd be home.  Here's a little something to let you know I've been thinking about you.  Call me when you get home!  I've got so much to tell you.  –Sara_

            Nick's heart did that palpating thing again.

            As Nick opened the box and popped a delicious cookie into his mouth he couldn't help but think about how lucky he was to have Sara in his life, _thinking about him_.  As soon as he stepped in his house he went right for the phone, and caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror.  His expression was that of a man, a man who had fallen hard and was loving every second of it.

********

            Her phone rang a ridiculous amount of times that night.  Sara curled herself up on her couch, unwilling to budge, for fear she would throw the phone through the window, thus creating an unwelcome and preventable expense.  

            She knew it was probably Nick who was calling her.  Pretty convinced that he had not in fact seen her at the café earlier that day, she figured he was calling her because she had asked him to in her note left on his front porch.  __

_            Those stupid cookies, _she thought and cringed.  A mental picture crept into her head displaying Nick as he walked around his house, popping one cookie after another in his mouth saying, _That__ poor naïve Sara…man do I have her wrapped around my finger._

_            Stop doing this to yourself, Sara.  He's not that intentionally evil, s_he admitted.       Sara flipped through the channels on her television, not acutely aware of the programs showing.  

            She finally dozed off at two in the morning, and this time, when she was jolted out of her sleep, twenty minutes into her nightmare, she was determined, not scared, but determined.  She was determined to, once and for all, rid herself of this nightmare, of this anxiety.  She had to prove to herself that she was fine on her own, that she didn't need Nick to be her night in shining armor.  

            So as the moonlight spilled through her sheer curtains, casting dark shadows across her living room floor, she vowed she would deal with her demons, that she didn't need anyone, especially Nick, to hold her hand through it,  and that despite any obstacles in her way, she'd make it out better than ever.  And hopefully nightmare free.

**********

            The dream started out the same as the other ones.  Blasts of light.  Screams.  Shattering glass.  But instead of being alone in this dream like the other night, she had heard another voice.  It was Nick's; she knew it from the way he called to her.  __

_"Sara!"  _His panicked voice had echoed through the lab, yet she couldn't exactly see him there.  She lied there on the floor, her chest aching from the blow, and searched frantically with her eyes, barely lifting her head off the ground.  Broken walls of glass surrounded her.  Yet for some unknown reason, the glass was gusting about, like leaves scattering in the wind, around her.  She finally, not finding any more strength left within her body, gave up to the darkness.  

A few hours after awakening, sleep obviously no longer seeming a pleasant option, Sara went for a jog.  It was then that she realized that she needed to talk to someone.  That although she needed to rely on herself to get her through this, with the help of a friend, it might just work out.

Sara arrived at the Las Vegas Crime Lab an hour early that day hoping to bump into Catherine.  Although she and Catherine had never been real close, she knew of Catherine's honesty and genuineness.  During her early morning jog, Catherine was the first person that came to mind for her to talk to.  Maybe she'd be able to help, maybe not.  Sara just had an inkling, and sharing with Catherine was something she needed to try.

            _Good, she's here, _Sara thought as she peeked inside an office where Catherine sat, head buried in a file work.  She tapped lightly on the window outside, making known her presence. 

            "Hey, Catherine."  She said sheepishly, and then found her voice.  "You got a minute?" 

            Catherine peered up from her papers, and studied her unusually reserved partner.

            Narrowing her eyes,  she knew immediately that something was up, yet decided to play it cool.

            "I've got more than a minute…thanks for rescuing me."  She said in a lighthearted tone and waited for Sara to speak.  She noticed Sara's lethargic nature and watched as Sara struggled to smile.

            "I, uh…"  Sara debated how to start the conversation.  Becoming aware of Catherine's watchful eyes on her, she settled back in her chair.  "I must look like crap, huh?"  The fact that she, once again, had a terrible night of sleeplessness added with the fact that Nick consumed her every thought, she was juggling anger, and confused grogginess. She knew she must have appeared the way she felt.

            "Nah, we all have our bad mornings.  You just look like, you know, you could use a little sleep."

            "Yeah, that's kind of what I wanted to talk to you about."  Sara searched through her mind.  "I don't know if you can be of any help with this but I was wondering, um, if you might know something about reoccurring nightmares…"  She ended her sentence with a lingering question mark.  

            "Reoccurring nightmares?  Honey, what are you dreaming about?"  Catherine took on a motherly concerned tone.

            Sara laughed, yet found none of this funny.  "Well, I mean it all started with the explosion.  Ever since then, with all the added pressures of Grissom, this new case, and then with N—," She cut herself off before she revealed too much.  She had already decided that she needn't bring up anything about what happened with her and Nick.  She herself, wanted to forget all about it.  "It's just that everything combined has made this past week really hard for me.  And when I say _really hard, that's nothing short of an understatement."  _

            Catherine was nodding in thought.  "So, you've been dreaming about what exactly?"

            "The explosion.  Well, it started off as the explosion and has molded and taken off from that.  Last night I heard the blast, but I didn't think I was still in the lab when I landed…my surroundings were totally different."  Sara paused to reflect on her dreams.  "And Catherine, I've been having these images haunt my waking hours as well.  I mean, one minute I'll be fine and the next it overcomes me, to the point where I feel like I can't even breathe."

            Catherine sighed heavily, pondering Sara's words.  "Honey, it sounds to me like, well, like you've got anxiety disorder."

            Sara cringed.  "What, you mean like, panic attacks?"

            "When Eddie died, I couldn't think straight, you know?  I worried about Lindsey, about what would happen next.  The whole thing was just totally….unexpected.  It left me vexed from the moment I woke up to the second I fell asleep.  Like you, I was still having nightmares about it, and my nightmares transcended into my fears, like what would've happened if I had not found Lindsey that night in the lake.  Everything built up inside me and I found myself from time to time, being unable to function.  I would stop dead in my tracks, sweating, my head spinning, not being able to breathe…just like you said."  

            "How did it all stop?"  Sara wondered.

            Catherine breathed in and then let out her breath with a shrug.  "To be honest with you, I still feel them sometimes.  But, I've for the most part, managed to control them.  It's not nearly as bad as it used to be."  Catherine leaned forward as if to share a secret.  "The thing is, a lot of it has to do with time management.  And when you're working all day everyday, more than half your life, it's hard to relax and just take a breath, you know? Sara, I know you, and I know you, probably more so than any of us here, are a world class workaholic.  Just slow down; once you give yourself time to take a break, to get away from it all, that's when you begin to appreciate the things around you, rather than dread them.  And they'll fade….slowly but surely."  She reached over and squeezed Sara's shoulder.  "I'm sorry it's affected you so much…the explosion.  I didn't have any idea."

            "Yeah, I don't know, I just wish I could shut everything down, just turn things off around me.  It'd be nice to make everything disappear." Sara spoke with a weak smile.

            "Girl, don't I know it."  Catherine remarked, leaning back in her seat, crossing one leg over the other.  

            A soft rap sounded on the window door behind Sara, startling her.  She turned around and then her breath caught.  

            "Good afternoon, Catherine," Nick nodded in her direction.  "Sara."  The side of his mouth turned upwards into a half smile.  Sara quickly turned back around, feeling foolish that she hadn't properly prepared herself for running into Nick.  Of course she knew she'd see him that day, she _was_ his partner, yet she felt it easier just to not give it much thought, to push him out of her head altogether.  Catherine noticed Sara's complexion turn a waxy pale.

            "Uh, hi Nicky.  You're here a little early aren't ya?"  Catherine asked.

            Nick nodded, looking curiously at the back of Sara's head.

            "So, how's the case coming?"  Catherine's eyes flicked from Sara to Nick.

            "Good."  Sara's voice was short and she immediately stood up, wiping her sweaty palms across her jeans.  She made brief eye contact with Nick and brushed past him at the door.  She left him there, his smile fading into a deep, confused frown.

            "Oookay."  He turned to follow Sara.  Catherine shrugged and went about her case.

            "Hey…" Nick caught up with Sara's stride.  "Um, _hi."  He cocked his head sideways at her, vowing for her attention._

            "Hey."  She said with no emotion.  Or at least tried to.

            "How _are you?"  _

            "Great."  She glanced at him with a phony smile and then stepped into a room and began searching for the Connie Trevorson murder case file.  Her nerves were doing crazy things at that minute.  She tried to make it look as if it was just any other day, but wondered if Nick could see right through that.  

            "Sara, are you alright?"  There was concern in his voice.  Sara swore there was, but then remembered his magnificent acting skills from the other night.  _He doesn't care about you, Sara.  He doesn't really care. _She continued repeating this in her head, hoping to convince herself.

            "Great."  She answered again, flipping open the file and paging through the information.  She then began reading off the newest leads, which weren't many, as if nothing was wrong.  Her tone with him was short and choppy, strictly professional and insincere.  She took a brief moment to steal a glance in his direction after going through the light information from the case.  He looked utterly lost.  

            "Ok then."  He said, confusion evident in his voice.

            _Is she pretending like nothing happened between us? _Nick wondered, full of panic.  When he looked up at her, she was staring at him and then immediately, after meeting his eyes, turned her head around.  

The silence was unnerving.  

            Nick slowly made his way over to her, as her back was turned to him, and watched with mystification as she thumbed through papers in a tall filing cabinet, seemingly unconcerned with him.

            "Hey," He whispered, right behind her.  He brought his hand up to rest on her arm and she immediately retracted back at his touch.  She stood rigid.  "Why didn't you answer your phone yesterday?  I called you, like, a million times."  His voice seemed so soft.  Sara's arms hung at her sides now, fists clenching into balls.  _Don't fall for it, Sara.  He doesn't really care.  He inched up to her so that she was now facing him, however, she stood there, eyes closed, trying her hardest not to lose herself to her emotion._

            "Hey…"  His voice was just above a whisper, and it begged for Sara to look at him.  She slowly opened her eyes, and for a second, swore she saw concern and bewilderment in his eyes, even sadness.  She gazed back at him, and almost found her eyes tearing up.  However, she snapped to.  Her head caught up with the rest of her body and she turned back around, very stiffly.  _He has no affect on you, Sara.  Don't let him think he does.  _It took every part of her to portray the mask of indifference on her face.  

            "Thank you for the cookies, Sara.  I loved them."  He was quiet as he spoke, wishing she would do or say something to put his mind at ease.  She shivered, and then moved away from him, a different file folder in her hand.  

            "Sara!"  He called out, pleading with her.  "What is going on?"  

            She stopped and turned to him.  He looked so helpless standing there, as if he honestly didn't know why she was being callous towards him.  _Did he think he could just get away with it?_ Sara wondered.  Finally, feeling as if she would burst, she strode towards him.  

            Just inches away from him now, she whispered to the side of his face.  "Nick, I saw you."  

The words didn't quite register as Nick's brow wrinkled in puzzlement.  She continued, shaking her head.  "I saw you at the café..."  

            Nick's heart caught in his throat and he stood there motionless.

            "I saw you kiss her."  

*********

Author's Note:   Wow, there is a lot to digest in this chapter…sorry it was so long.  Anyways, I'd like to hear your comments, as always.  So purdy please reply.  Thanks again to everyone who gave my fiction a chance and remain faithful on reading and commenting on each chapter.  You guys are the coolest!  And, as always, more of the drama and angst and nail biting frustration to come! (Haha)    


	10. Dealing: Chapter Ten

Disclaimer:  I have no energy…refer to the last nine chapters. ;o)

Author's Note:  I am sorry to say that, for whatever reason, the reviews are not showing up on the review page.  All but one, that is, by CrAxYPiXiE(thanks, by the way!)  No need to fear, however, I have been able to read the reviews via my e-mail account.  Luckily everytime someone submits a comment, it sends notification to my e-mail along with the comment itself.  So, yes, I have been able to read all the encouragement sent my way!  Unfortunately, I erased the e-mail notifications thinking that sooner or later the reviews would appear on the website.  No such luck.  Sooner or later came and went and still…nada.  So, for all you who took the time to write, thank you thank you thank you.  _You are my sunshine, my only sunshi—.  _Okay, you get the point. *Winks*  

Special shout out to PassionatePapist, who's hilarious/brilliant review stuck in my head(how could it not!?) and totally made my day!  Thank you so much!!! That was awesome!

Dealing: Chapter Ten

****

"I saw you kiss her."

Nick felt as if he had been socked in the stomach, a sensation that left him out of breath.  His knees jellied, and he couldn't seem to find his voice.  _No, she's got it all wrong.  He wanted to tell her that, but he just could not speak.   _

            "You don't look so good, Nick."  Sara sardonically stated. "Feeling guilty?"

"I…I,"—_Defend yourself you idiot—"Sara, it's really not what you think."_

            Sara looked at him expectantly, waiting.  She watched Nick standing there, so unnatural in his awkwardness, eyes wide and stammering.  She wanted him to tell her she had it wrong, that what she saw didn't actually happen.  She wished it so badly that if, right then, Nick said to her that it wasn't even him in the café, she would have believed him and rested easy in the denial that had taken over her unbelieving mind.  

            _Go on Nick.  Tell me…tell me I'm wrong._

He ran a shaky hand through his hair.  That's when Sara noticed it—he was sweating.  Which everyone knows equals a sure sign of guiltiness.  He'd been caught.  _Like a deer in headlights, Sara mused._

            Having waited long enough for an unneeded explanation, Sara rolled her eyes and sighed, her head hanging in sadness.  She began moving forward, eyes on the exit door.  

            "Wait, Sara…"  Nick desperately called, moving in front of her to block her path.  "Listen, it wasn't…it wasn't even a real kiss."

            Sara flinched as if he had just spit on her.

            "Nick," Sara began.  "Listen, I'm not one to know what kind of girls you've dated in the past—how many or what they were like.  I really don't know if this is something you do, the sort of situation that maybe you've found yourself in before.  Whatever crap lines you've quite possibly used in order to clear yourself, or to get away with sticky situations with past flings…"  Sara paused momentarily, trying to find the right words.  She let out a sharp sigh, inching closer to Nick before continuing.  "My point is, Nick,  I'm not an idiot and that kiss that you claim was supposedly not real…well…lets just say it didn't look so fake to me."  She glanced down.  "In fact, it looked about as real as they come."

            Nick choked on her words.

            "Sara," Nick finally spoke, standing firmly in her way.  "I know you're not an idiot.  I know what that kiss must've looked like to you…but…you don't understand—,"

            The break room door flung open.  Sara jumped and both turned at the same time.

            "Hey Sara?"  Warrick stood in the doorway, holding sheets of paper up in his right hand.  His eyes glanced suspiciously back and forth between Nick and Sara, noticing the stiffness to their bodies.  Realizing he must have interrupted something he grew uncomfortable.  "Uh, sorry to barge in and all.  Sara, I just wanted to let you know that your faxes came through."

            Sara nodded silently.

"Ok then.  I'll, um, just lay them here on the table."  Warrick awkwardly leaned in and set the faxes on the table nearest the door.  "See ya."  He spoke, quickly departing.

            Nick turned his attention back to Sara.

            "Uh…where was I?"  He searched his mind on how to begin his defense.

            "Actually, I was just leaving."  

            Nick cringed, shaking his head.

            "What, you're not even gonna give me a chance to explain myself?"

            Sara glanced from Nick to the floor to Nick again. 

            _I don't need him feeling sorry for me.  Don't let him see that he's hurt you._

"You don't need to explain."

            "I don't…?"  Nick was confused.

            "No.  Because…"  Sara knew what she wanted to say, even though her heart begged her not to voice the thoughts.  "Because, Nick, you and I both know that our kiss was a mistake.  Plain and simple.  It didn't mean anything."

            "Sara…" 

            "We both had wine, it was raining.  I don't know, I guess it was just too easy to get caught up in the moment.  Wine can do that to people."  Sara cleared her throat and looked past Nick, his unblinking stare making her extremely vulnerable. "So stop feeling bad about the café incident…because _our kiss should never have happened."_

            Nick felt that winded sock sensation to his stomach again.

            Sara nodded slowly to herself, accepting her own words.  As much as it pained her to admit it, she knew their kiss had to have been a mistake.  Nick made that pretty clear at the café.  

            She stole a peek up at Nick.  His expression was unreadable.  He stood rigid, staring ahead at nothing, his jaw clenched slightly.

            As far as Sara was concerned, it was for the best to remove all this added drama in her life right now.  

            It wasn't about her and Nick anymore, no, it was about her work.  She needed to give back the one hundred and ten percent she was so accustomed to giving, yet had somehow let all these new distractions creep in.  

            _Just concentrate on your job, Sara, and everything will go back to normal._

            It was hard for her to immediately accept that Nick and her could be nothing more than partners working on a case together, but it was something she needed to do to gain control back in her life.  Her and Nick were CSI partners, nothing more.  _Better I figured it out now rather than later, she thought._

            Sara gave a small shrug.

            "Well, I'll meet back with you later.  We've got a lot of case work to do."

            And with that she stepped around Nick and strode out the room, leaving him standing alone.  She turned longingly back at the door after departing, walking backwards while facing it, wishing momentarily that Nick would come bursting out to magically fix the thing she knew shouldn't have been made to break in the first place.

            Mentally chiding herself, she turned around and picked up her stride.

            _This is for the best.  Mind off Nick... back on reality.  Time to deal and move on._

Like she thought earlier, better the realization came now than later.  

The last thing Sara expected, however, was to find herself in the bathroom for the next fifteen minutes, searching for every last bit of strength left within her to regain composure.  

************

            Nick had his share of awkward moments.  Moments when he felt as if things just couldn't get any worse.  Moments when he'd give anything to just shrivel up, disappear.  Moments when everyone around obviously recognizes the awkwardness, its heaviness lingering in the air so much one could practically taste it.  Yep, he thought, this was definitely one of those moments.  This was _awkward._

            Sara was sitting across from him at the large table in the break room, mulling over the information sprawled out in front of her.  She was anxiously chewing on her pen, and Nick noticed her eyes were very adamantly on her work, and nothing else.  _I wonder what she's really thinking, Nick contemplated.  It had taken them a little over an hour to meet up again after their confrontation in the same room and Nick was feeling every bit of it still in the pit of his stomach._

            He was reading his copy of the case report, pen tapping lightly in his left hand.  His eyes flicked up at her now and then, wondering when would be the best time to attempt cordial conversation. 

            Sara's head was propped up with her free hand, as if she was physically incapable of holding it up on her own. Sara placed her pen back on the table, opting now to chew on her bottom lip.  For a brief moment, Sara lifted her head to stare out the glass door, and then turned back to her work, only to find her partner watching her curiously.

            Sara got the feeling that this putting-the-past-behind-her-thing wasn't going to be easy at all.  Maybe because the "past" was still so fresh.

She cleared her throat.

"Alright," She guided a piece of paper towards Nick with her hand. "I placed some calls on Randy McMasters.  I got a few faxes back with information loaded on this guy."   

Nick pulled the paper closer and glanced at the information.

Sara watched him read and hesitated before speaking again.  "Um, notice his place of birth."  She said, pointing to a specific region on the page.

"San Francisco."  Nick read aloud.  He glanced up.  "Isn't that?"

"Connie's old hometown?  Yes."

"Coincidence?"

"Could have been.  Connie and Randy might not have known each other in California.  San Francisco _is_ a big city.  However, further examination leads me to believe otherwise."  Sara pulled out another sheet from under her file and slid it to Nick.  "Chew on that."  She said, tilting her head towards the new paper, referring to the extra info.  

Curiously, Nick read. 

"Hmm.  Seems unlikely that Randy and Connie would have moved to Vegas from the same city at the same and not have known each other."

"You think they had an affair?"

"Why, because Connie and Frank were married in San Francisco?"

"Well, think about it.  If they had an affair while Connie was married, it might explain why they both moved to Vegas at the same time.  In that paper it states that the Trevorsons' move was based on Frank's new position at that marketing corporation.  Maybe Randy followed them."

"Makes sense."  Nick confirmed.

"I wonder if Randy was the reason for the divorce."

"Frank denied ever knowing a Randy McMasters when questioned.  Didn't even recognize his picture.  He could be lying.  He seems very suspicious still to me.  Franks still a suspect with great motive."  Nick reasoned.

"Eh.  Franks not involved.  It's a strong feeling I have….I can't explain it."  

Nick narrowed his eyes at Sara.  It wasn't like her to base things on strong feelings alone.  Besides, it wasn't professional.  

"Anyways, we should place some more phone calls.  See if anyone ever spotted Randy and Connie together back in San Francisco."

Sara nodded and returned her gaze to her files.  She yawned and stretched her arms out behind her, leaning slightly backward in her chair.  Nick watched her, wondering if maybe now she'd let him explain himself to her.  Maybe they still had a chance…

"Sara—,"

"I think they should release the kids back to their father."  Sara interrupted.

Nick cringed.  

"The children have been alone long enough.  They need their father back in their life."  She continued.  

"Are you kidding, Sara?  He's still a suspect.  For all we know, he and Randy could have been in on the murder together."  Nick quickly replied, growing frustrated at Sara.  What was with her?  She knew better.

"No, Frank's innocent."  She stated matter-of-factly.

"Oh really?  Is 1-800-Psychic-Sara now your second job?"   He leaned back in his chair, eyebrows raised.

"Very funny."  She spoke defensively.

Already irritated that Sara had so easily distracted him from bringing up the café incident again, he sat upright in his seat.  She was not making working with her an easy task.

"Besides, Sara.  The kids aren't alone, they have very capable people watching, protecting, them."

She shook her head, obviously making known her disagreement with his last comment.  Her current stubbornness was causing major friction at that moment with Nick, making him on edge.  

"You know, Sara, we're looking for something a little more concrete here than mere intuition.  Assuming Frank isn't involved based on a _strong feeling_ is irritating, to say the least, and most importantly, something we weren't trained to do."

"Nick, the last thing I need is _you _telling _me how to handle my case."_

"Your case?  Oh, it's _your_ case now?"  Nick lashed back, glaring at Sara.  

She clenched her teeth.

There was obviously underlying tension present, tension from earlier that day that made it more than effortless enough to argue about the littlest of things.   

Neither of them spoke for a moment.  Finally Sara ran a hand through her hair and sat forward.

"Arguing never gets anyone anywhere.  Let's just drop the personal opinions, okay?"

"Great." Nick growled.

Another fifteen minutes passed in utter silence.  

            _This is torture, _Nick thought.  Sara was obviously angered, her normally light complexion reddening right before Nick's eyes.  Yet she remained fixated on the file, frequently making a notation or two in the margins.  

            "We need to get out there."  Nick's voice broke the silence, hoping to lighten the mood.  "Get some field work done.  I'm going crazy just sitting here."  Nick watched for Sara to say something.  She didn't, and he wondered if she was purposefully ignoring him.  After several minutes Nick abruptly shut the folder and tossed it aside, rubbing his eyes in thought.

          "So, Sara…..you gonna ignore me forever?"

            "I'm not ignoring you."

            "Does that mean you'll let me talk then?"

            "About what?"

            Nick leaned forward.

            "You know about what.  About the other night….and about yesterday."  His voice was seductively low and serious.

            Sara sighed loudly, shaking her head.

            "I told you Nick, it would be a waste of our time."

            "Sara, look me in the eye and tell me our kiss meant nothing to you."  __

_            Whatever you do Sara, don't look him in the eyes, _she coached herself, remembering the effect they had on her.

            "It doesn't matter, Nick.  We're done talking about this."  Sara spoke, determinedly.  

            "Look at me."

            Sara closed her eyes, head down.  Slowly, she looked up at him, unable to resist his pull on her.  Nick caught her gaze, held it.  Her lips parted slightly, and she opened her mouth as if she were about to say something, yet nothing came out.  

            "Tell me."  He whispered.  Sara's heart rate increased significantly.  

            Entranced she just gazed at him.

            "Tell me…" he repeated.  "Tell me it meant nothing to you…"  

            He swore he saw it in her eyes, the same yearn for him that he felt the other night with her.  

            Briefly she remained fixated, allowing Nick's words to melt her fears.  Then from somewhere deep inside her an alarm went off, a warning.  

            Suddenly her eyes shadowed, turning cold.

            "It meant nothing."  

She stood up, grabbed her file and left as quickly as possible.  As she exited the building, she felt as if her body were trying to swim against a strong ocean current that was recklessly pulling her in the opposite way.  The current was that of a very powerful nature.  The current was the magnetic "force" of Nick. 

*********

The microwave beeping jolted Nick out of his somber daze.  As he opened the door to retrieve his popcorn, he immediately recognized his lack of appetite and tossed the heated bag in the trash.  He paced his home, turning on and shutting off the same CD in his stereo numerous times.  It was as if he was in a trance, unable to function correctly…sort of like a zombie.  Every time he pressed play on his stereo, he realized just how much he didn't have any desire to listen to music, and he would quickly shut it off, his nerves jangled. 

Sara had gotten to him.  She had gotten to him like no other woman had before.  Her words had the impact of steel grate, and he hung onto every one of them, wishing he could brush off the effect they had on him, nevertheless aware of their crushing power.  

_It meant nothing.  _Her voice echoed in his brain, allowing his head to throb, not remotely caring that the pain was dulling his senses.  

_No way.  _He _had felt something between their kiss.  He was not insane.  It was not merely one-sided…the connection he felt during the kiss was indescribable.  Why was she denying it?  _

Nick clicked on the TV and crashed back on his sofa, allowing himself to become swallowed by his cushions.  Two minutes later, he clicked off the TV.

His mind wandered to Sara.  It was clear that she was bitter.  The anger in her eyes was undeniable.  Why did it have to come to this?  He wondered, hating everything about the way they talked to each other earlier.  He laid his head back on the cushions and stared at his popcorn ceiling.  Fidgety, his mind going a mile a minute, he allowed his restless energy to impel him off the couch.  He wandered to the window, resting his forehead on the cold glass, staring off into the night's darkness. Why wouldn't she give him the chance to explain?  Why was she making him so crazy?  He realized there had never been a time in his life when he had felt such an intense combination of emotions.  He felt so restive, so frustrated, so confused, so...empty.  

He closed his eyes, allowing the cold windowpane to ease his numbing headache.  

*********

Author's Note:  Well, not to sound like a broken record, but I'd be greatly appreciative if I got a review from you!  Please respond…tell me what you liked; tell me what you didn't like.  Either/or.  Even if they don't show up on the site, I get them anyways on my e-mail!  More to come…so stay tuned. ;-)


	11. Dealing: Chapter Eleven

Disclaimer:  The characters found in the fiction are not my own.  They belong to anyone with legal binding claim to the show CSI and/or its characters.  I just borrow their televised fictional lives and create my own storylines for them.

A/N:  Thanks to the lovely people whose names ever so often frequent the review page!

Dealing: Chapter Eleven

********

            The room was familiar enough, Sara thought, as she allowed her eyes to wander her surroundings.  The walls were gray, the cold air heavy enough to make her breathing slow and difficult.  It was familiar, yet somehow different.  Empty.  And dark.

            It was the lab. 

            Her body shivered as panic overcame her, her heartbeat drumming in her ears.  She stood still, frozen with fear. 

            _I know where I am. _

_            I know what's going to happen._

            And just as she was expecting it to come, the loudness exploded in her head, vibrating in her eardrums.  

            Although she had been anticipating the blast, she still was blown back by its powerful force.  Shards of broken glass sprayed around her.  Her chest ached in pain and she struggled on the floor, choking for air.

            "Sara…"

            She thought she was alone in the lab….

            Slowly lifting her head off the ground, she heard it again.

            "Sara…"

            _No, Nick was here the last time…I heard his voice calling to me._

Yet it wasn't Nick's familiar voice that was heard this time.

            Her arms prickled with goose bumps and she slowly pushed herself off the uneven ground, despite the gaping wound on her hand. The frigid air piercing her lungs, Sara squinted into the shadows, hoping to catch a glimpse of the person whose low whisper of a voice eerily called to her.  

            "Yes?"  She barely recognized her own shaky voice as she coughed through the dusty mist.

            Pure terror engulfed her as broken glass crunched beneath her moving feet.  She grasped on to the wall, pulling herself along, searching…

            "Saaarrraaa…"  The voice echoed.  It was coming from right behind her.  She spun around, clutching the wall for support.  

            Eyes wide and breath-taken, she stared at the pale, ghostly face before her.  The pain she had experienced from the explosion suddenly didn't hurt so bad.

            "Wh—What do you want?"  Sara gasped.

            _This is not how it's supposed to happen._

            "Sara…"   

            Sara swallowed hard, paralyzed with all-consuming fear. She blinked back at the distorted person's expression, recognizing the haunted eyes, the grim, drawn face.  _Connie Trevorson._

            "Sara, you promised me."  The woman drew nearer.  "You promised me."  She whispered again.

            Sara blinked again, yet this time when she opened her eyes, she was not back in the destructed lab.  It was still dark, and the shadows lurked all around her.  Shadows of trees.  She was in the woods. 

            Panicked, she ran.  Ran for no particular reason…from no particular thing.

            The branches grabbed at her as she pushed through the thick brush, her feet charging ahead of her.  She used her arms to force herself a path, fervently running forward, feeling every stinging scrape and cut to her arms and face.

            Suddenly a voice…

            "Sara!"

            _Nick!  _The terror in his voice as he yelled her name stopped Sara dead in her tracks.  She turned frantically, spinning around, searching with her eyes.  

            Nothing.  Just darkness.

            In the distance a bell sounded, growing louder and nearer.

            Sara shot up, fumbling for the phone next to her bed. 

            "H—Hello?"  She positioned the receiver to her ear.  There was a slight hesitation on the other end.

            "Sara?  Were you sleeping?" 

            It was Nick.

            "Um…," Sara wiped her squinting, tired eyes, her head pounding as she did so.  "Yeah."

  She glanced at the glowing red from the bedside table.  Four-thirty p.m.  

            "Well, I'm sorry to wake you Sara…but you were supposed to be here an hour ago.  We're on the field today."  Nick explained.

            Sara quickly yanked the comforter off her bare legs and almost tripped over the phone cord as she hurriedly stumbled out of bed, phone still clinging to her ear.  She mentally cursed herself for falling asleep earlier.  _That's what you get for staying up all night, Sidle._

"Nick, I'm so sorry.  Give me ten minutes."

            "Got it."  

********

            Sara swiftly walked towards the crime lab building, hair tie pursed between her lips as she gathered her tangled brown mane with both hands to pull into a ponytail.  It was already late Tuesday afternoon, on the cusp of the evening, and she knew she would have some explaining to do to her partner.  Sara was always on time to work, if not early, and knew being late would draw attention to her usually punctual self.  

Nick was standing in direct eyeshot of a rapidly moving Sara as he leaned against the outside wall of the crime lab, waiting for her arrival.  He saw her frantic, harried expression as she half walked/half jogged towards him and made a mental note not to pry too much into the fact that she was over an hour late.  Nick gave her the once over as she drew nearer, taking in her slimming brown pants and beige tank blouse.  Funny how most women seemed to take hours to look as good as Sara did in the ten minutes she had to get ready, Nick thought.  

Their eyes connected and Nick pushed himself off the wall, walking to fill their gap.  

"Hey."  She sounded exasperated and out of breath.

"You ready?"

She nodded.  "Let's go."  

"Nice day."  Nick grunted.

            "Uh-huh."

            Sara sat gazing out of the passenger side window while Nick drove.  They were following Brass to Connie's ex-husbands home for further questioning.  Sara loved field work, yet was not thrilled about interrogating Frank any further.  To her it was like heading towards a brick wall, or rather, she thought, beating a dead horse with a stick.  

Her dream that day was still vaguely familiar.  As Nick hummed along to the car radio Sara concentrated hard, her dream becoming more familiar as various things around her triggered further recollection.            

It started out the same as the others.  Yet ended entirely different.  In the woods?  Sara wondered why exactly she was frantically running through the wooded surroundings in her dream.  She had heard Nick's voice.  Was she running towards him?  Away from him?  

And then the part with Connie Trevorson.  Sara remembered the day of her autopsy and the mental pledge for justice she made to her.  _You promised me_, Connie's voice had echoed in her dream.  Thinking about it, a shiver went through her.

"Is it too cold?"  Nick noticed her shudder and reached towards the air conditioning unit in his car, his intention on turning it off.  

"No, no.  I'm okay."  Sara quickly waved her hand, revealing her contentment.  

"Good."  Nick sighed loudly.  "'Cause it's like a hundred degrees outside."  He smirked.  Sara smiled.  

A few minutes of silence passed.

"So…you sleeping alright now?"  Nick questioned, his voice containing sincere curiosity, his eyes still on the road ahead of him.  Sara was a little startled by the abruptness of his question, yet told herself it was completely natural to be curious, considering everything she had already told him.

"Eh.  It's not so bad.  I've been getting more sleep than last week."  Which was not entirely false.  She _had managed to sleep longer…yet her dreams were anything but pleasant.  No, only once in the whole week did she feel safe in her slumber.  That once was when Nick was there with her.  _

"Well, that's good."  He nodded.  

Sara eased her eyes over to Nick, and found herself staring at his hands gripping the steering wheel.  They were such strong hands.  Yet they had been so gentle.  _Gently holding my face, Sara recalled.  _

_Stop it, Sara.  Stop thinking of him like that.  It just can't be that way again._

            "I really am sorry about being late."  

            "No need to apologize, Sidle.  It's not like you make a habit of it or anything."  He replied quickly.

            _Sidle?_  Sara cringed at how totally unaffectionate that sounded coming out of Nick's mouth.  

            "For some reason this just doesn't seem right."  Nick said, breaking through Sara's thoughts.  Sara wrinkled her brow.  What was he talking about?  Was he talking about the two of them?

            "What exactly do you mean?"  Sara nervously asked.

            "You know, questioning Frank.  I know its something we have to do…but this just seems almost pointless in a way.  Especially since everything about this Randy McMasters guy seemingly fits every piece of the puzzle and yet he's still somewhere out there, roaming the streets."  

            "Well, he does have a warrant on him now.  Obviously he's hiding for a reason.  You know _I think he did it.  It's just a matter now of finding him."  Sara hoped she didn't come across as indifferent in her speaking.  She was probably more zealous for finding and putting this guy away as she had been for any other criminal in the past.  "So, what exactly are we looking for when we question Frank?"  She asked._

            "We still have evidence that could place him at the murder scene.  We've got to find out exactly why what we found was there."

            "You got a copy of the evidence inventory?"

            "Back seat.  Manila folder." Nick gestured with his head.  As Sara contorted her body around the passenger seat, leaning to grab the folder behind her, Nick got a whiff of her perfume.  He inhaled heavily, allowing the sweet aroma to fill his lungs.

            "Alright, let's see."  Sara spoke, opening the folder and removing the long sheet of information.  She scrolled the list with her fingertip. "Some of the hairs found on Connie belonged to Frank," Sara bit her lip in thought.  "Well, you already know what I think about that."

            "Yeah, it's only natural his hairs be on her considering he was there that morning to drop off the kids."  Nick repeated her thoughts from a previous conversation.

            "Now, the other identified hairs belonged to Mr. Randy.  And, because we have not yet located him, he has no alibi."

            "So why exactly then, were the fibers from one of Frank's work shirts found on Connie?  If Frank didn't do it, then why was a piece of one of his shirts located at the scene?  It only makes sense that since there was a struggle, that his shirt would get ripped, right?"

            "Well, I guess that's something we need to bring up to our suspect.  See what he has to say about _that_."

            With a swift nod in agreement, Nick pulled into a gated suburban development, following Brass's police vehicle.  Beautiful two and three story homes lined the evenly paved road along with tall oak trees, which sheltered the street from the sun.  Sara marveled at how expensive the cost of living must be in an area like the one they were driving through.

            "Niiice," Was the one word Nick muttered as he drove up the long driveway which led to a colonial-looking brick home.  He peered up at the large windows of the house, intimidated by its grandness, as he switched the gear into park.  

            "What exactly does Frank do for a living again?"  Sara questioned, wide eyed as she un-clicked her seatbelt. 

            "Insurance Accountant…something or other…"  Nick's words trailed off.

            "Huh…I wonder if he's got any rooms for rent."

            "Yeah, let me know."

            A sudden rap on the driver side window jolted both Nick and Sara out of their mesmerizing entrance.  Brass stood on the other side of the car door, brows furrowed.  

            "Come on you two, we don't have all day.  It's not like you've never seen a nice house before."  

            Brass walked two steps ahead of Nick and Sara until they reached the front entranceway.  Brass would've knocked, had the door actually been closed.  With the tips of his fingers, he pushed on the already ajar door, its hinges creaking as he did so, until it was fully opened.

            "Detective Brass, Las Vegas Police Department."  He called.  Standing still he leaned his head in and around the frame of the door.  "Hello?"  

Light jazz music echoed through the large home.  Brass turned to the two CSIs, gave a simple shrug and then stepped through the doorway. 

"What do you want now?"

"Whoa," Brass, caught off guard, took a huge step backwards.  A gruff looking man stood before the three of them, hands on his hips, making known his territory.  He glanced questioningly between them, his displeasure with their presence undisguised.  

He was in his late forties, standing a tall 6'1 or so, yet looked as frail as a twig, his grey sweats hanging loosely on him.  His eyes were bloodshot and lined with dark circles, and his face was covered with dark whiskers, revealing the fact that he had not shaved in about a week.   

Not exactly what one would picture a wealthy insurance accountant to look like, Sara thought.  Of course, had she lost her spouse a week before, ex or not, she probably would be just as miserable looking as Frank appeared to be.  

"Nice to see you again, Mr. Montgomery.  I'm sorry if we've caught you at a bad time, but this won't take long."  Sara stepped up, approaching the situation with friendly ease.  As awkward as she felt at that moment, one would not know it by the confident resolve in her tone.  "We just have a few more things we need to get cleared up."

With a resigned sigh, Frank turned and shuffled back inside his home.  "Come on in."  

Nick closed the door behind him and followed the other three deeper indoors.

            Every inch of floor and table space was filled with cardboard boxes of varying sizes.  Nick was careful with his walking as he stepped in and around them, taking in the empty walls and shelves.  

            "So, uh, what exactly are you doing, Frank?"  Brass interrogated while studying the boxes.

            "I think that's pretty obvious, Detective."   He replied, voice flat as he sealed off a full box with a long strip of heavy tape.  He then grabbed one of many drinking glasses off a table, wrapping it in newspaper.  

            "Where are you off to?"  Nick spoke with suspicious query, narrowing his eyes at Frank.

            "Somewhere away from here.  Not exactly sure of my destination as of yet."  

            Sara walked over to a box full of picture frames and crouched beside it.  After recognizing the two smiling young faces held inside one of the golden rimmed casings, she pulled out the frame and slowly stood up, staring at the photo.  

            Holding the frame up, facing the picture towards Frank she cringed.  "What about your children?"  Her voice was full of concern and worry, confused by Frank's distractedness.

            "What about them?"  He gruffed, preoccupied with his packing.

            "They obviously can't go with you…"

            "Yeah, well," Frank looked over at Sara and gave her a grim smile which made her uneasy.  "That's the whole point."

            "Do you want to stop that for a second and sit down so you can explain yourself, Mr. Montgomery?  Because I'm going to be quite honest with you; picking up and leaving town isn't going to make you any less of a suspect.  It only increases our suspicion."  Nick interjected, pulling another glass out of Frank's hand and setting it back down on the table.  

            "Listen," Frank heaved a sigh and plopped himself on a chair.  "I can't take being here right now.  Do you have any clue as to what it feels like to lose a spouse?"  His voice was defensive as he spoke to them.

            Sara shook her head.  "No, but—,"  

            "But what?"  Frank interrupted.  "You guys pick and probe at me, treating me as if I could have committed something so, so heinous to someone I loved with all my heart.  You just can't get it through your thick skull that I couldn't have possibly done it.  And here I am, on leave from work because they say 'It just looks bad for business right now.'  Every interrogating question directed towards me is a blow to the stomach and I've been taking it for over a week now.  Well, you know what, I'm done taking it.  I can't stay hang here any longer."  His eyes, brimmed with tears, flicked around the empty white walls.  Brass arched a suspicious eyebrow before Frank continued.  "I'll just…I'll just lose it."  

"So, what, you are just going to leave your children, just like that?"  Nick inched closer to Frank.

"I was never a father to them.  They're better off anyways without me screwing up their lives."  His angrily spoke.  

"You can't just leave them."

"Oh, I can.  And I am going to…I can't face them right now."

Sara was shaking her head, biting her lip.  He wasn't using Connie's death as an excuse to leave the children—he honestly believed he was a bad father.  

"Frank, an interview with a friend of Connie's reveals that you were angry with her for wanting to leave town with your children.  Now why do you expect us to believe that all of a sudden it's in their best interest that you disappear from their lives, and that you are not just trying to hide, to run from the law?"  Brass asked.

"I loved Connie.  I was angry that she wanted to leave period.  Kids or no kids."  He ran his hands through his hair.  "Don't get me wrong, detective.  I love my children.  But they deserve better."

Sara stood dismayed and thought of the innocence of the kids.  "But they miss you…"  She quietly spoke.  Nick glanced over to her, an inquisitive look on his face.  Frank, ignoring her, said nothing.  

"Well, there are just some extra things here that make me wonder just how concrete your alibi is."  Brass began.  "Like this for instance."  Brass held up a photograph taken at the crime scene of a torn piece of yellow clothing.  "Analysis reveals the fibers in this shirt match the ones that your job requires you to wear during your office hours.  Explain why we found one of _your_ torn shirts on _her_ body."  

Frank stood from his chair and walked closer to Brass, eyes narrowing as he studied the photo.  Shaking his head he said, "Yeah, that looks like it could have come from one of my shirts.  The problem is though, that material is yellow; our colors have changed to dark blue detective.  I don't own any more of those old shirts.  Take a look for yourself."  Frank nodded towards an open box lying on the floor.  Nick knelt down to the box and held up a blue polo shirt with the embroidered "Rickwald Insurance Company" on the upper left corner.  The entire box was filled with matching blue shirts.  

"No yellow."  Nick confirmed, fingering through the box.

"Did you get rid of all the old ones?"  Sara asked, wondering if it was possible that someone might have taken his old shirts out of the trash.

"No, actually, I believe they're still at the old house.  At Connie's."  Frank clarified.

"We'll look into that."  Brass made a note and then abruptly shut his pad.  "I believe that's it for now, Frank."  He inched closer to Frank and with a threatening tone he warned, "Don't go too far buddy.  I'll be keeping tabs on you."  

*********

            "What a day."  Nick let out an exhausted sigh as he drove the streets of Las Vegas.  "To be quite honest, this case is wearing me out."

            "Yeah.  I still can't believe all we encountered just now."  Sara replied.

            Nick mutely nodded in agreement, recalling the whole interrogation.

            Sara was puzzled by Frank's apparent unconcern with Claire and Charlie.  Those children sure held a special place in her heart.  She had made a mental note during the confrontation with Frank to visit them again, to spend more time with them.  Those kids needed some consistency in their lives, and if Frank wasn't going to give it to them, Sara would.

            While in thought, Sara's stomach loudly growled.  Shifting embarrassingly in her seat, she peered over at Nick, hoping he hadn't heard.  She attempted to nonchalantly raise the volume on car radio.  

            And then it rumbled again.

            Nick's face broke into a wide grin.

            "I guess my stomach's trying to tell me something."  Sara blushed.

            "Yeah, in a not so subtle way." Nick added, unable to stifle a chuckle. 

            "I guess I'm a little starving."

            "Me too.  Wanna grab a bite?"

            Sara hesitated.  It had only been a day since their argument and decision to remain strictly professional with each other.  Sara wondered if sitting across a table from each other, talking over a meal, would be a good idea considering her still prevalent feelings towards Nick.  Then she assured herself she was worrying for nothing, that the incident at the café was behind her and that it was only natural that they establish a friendship again.  That was something she knew she could do.  

            "Yeah, that sounds good."  She confidently stated.  Friends grab a bite to eat all the time, Sara thought.  

*******          

Important Note: I apologize for the lack of recent updating.  My mind has been boggled with school work and although I did begin this chapter over a week ago, I struggled through most of it for some odd reason.  I know this chapter dealt more with the case than the Nick/Sara saga but it was only necessary for the storyline and I promise the next one will be loaded with more of the S/N interaction. Anyways, I would really enjoy feedback so please respond and let me know what you thought.  I figured I'd give you guys a break from ye old cliffhanger for this chapter, but just as a warning it'll probably be the last non-cliffhanging ending to a chapter for the rest of the story.  So take full advantage! Hehe.  Anyways, this fiction is still a work and progress and I am pretty convinced that you all will be satisfied with the end result (not sure exactly when that will be however!)  Thanks again!


	12. Dealing: Chapter Twelve

Disclaimer:  The characters are not mine.  

Also, the quote Sara repeated to Nick was from Dale Carnegie.

Special Thanks:  **Jen(thanks for noticing!  and thanks for the review!), ****Sara Sidle Stokes(nice name by the way ;-p), **Mia**(Thanks for reading my story and taking the time to review!), ****MissyJane(Aww, thanks hun!), ****cRaZyPiXiE(taste good?), ****pdhtgal(thanks sweetie), **CindyRyan**(yeah, I was glad to see I finally updated as well…took me too darn long with that one), **undacoveragent9**(I'm glad to see a new name appear on the review page, thanks!), ****PassionatePapist(I honestly look forward so much to your little dialogue between these great characters and yourself *she also sent one for chapter 9 which unfortunately never made it to the review page, only to my e-mail*  Thanks for your hilarious review…I cracked up while reading it!  Keep 'em coming!), **Pam**(Your words really encouraged me, thanks so much!), ****dudette(haha, keep your eyes peeled), and last but not least ****Lynn(No, thank YOU for writing… *a review that is* ;-) )**

Dealing: Chapter Twelve!

********

The diner's menu was about four pages long, a fact that Sara was grateful for as she sat across from Nick, pretending to be distracted by the menu's lengthiness.  They had not said more than three words to each other since settling in at the restaurant.

Sara was trying hard to concentrate on the words, to decipher which dinner special appealed to her the most so when the waitress came to take her order she didn't look like a stuttering idiot.  But at that moment, Sara wasn't thinking much about food.  Her focus was, of course, on her partner. 

            _I can do this_, Sara thought. _ I can have a meal with my partner and discuss important case details._  It was only natural they do.  Brainstorming cases with partners after hours was an unspoken necessity that came along with their job.  And Sara truly did want to discuss the case more, partner to partner.  Yet while driving to the diner, Sara was more than a little apprehensive at the thought of her and Nick alone together, sharing a table and holding conversation.  

            Ever since the day before Sara wondered if it was truly possible to be nothing more than case partners with Nick.  After their heated argument, she had decided to build a wall in their relationship, promising herself she would never cross the line from professional to personal with him ever again.  That line had already been crossed before, and it turned out to be a huge mistake with drastic effects.  Maybe she had reacted rather harshly to Nick after the whole ordeal, especially with her spoken words to him, yet he had hurt her.  Truly hurt her.  More deeply so than she had been hurt in a long time.

She had already promised herself that day that she would not let her feelings for Nick get in the way of her really paying attention to her work.  She'd be glad when she would be able to see past her "Nick drama," which consisted mainly of realizing that she and Nick having the potential of a real relationship was an impossible fantasy.  Nick was a womanizer, plain and simple.  And Sara obviously wasn't able to change that.

But now she wondered how realistic it was to think that she and Nick could be mere partners and nothing more.  She was friends with Warrick, Catherine, and Grissom, or at least she would like to think so.  It just somehow made it easier to be friends with those who she worked with, it allowed them to connect with each other's thoughts as each case presented itself to them.  It couldn't hurt to be at least friends with Nick, she thought.  She couldn't expect for them to not be _friends_.

            So being friends was something she was going to try and work at with him.

            Friends it will have to be, she told herself.

Nick's eyes flicked up from his menu, already having established his burger and fries dinner selection.  Sara appeared to be reading—no, _studying—_the_ menu, as he noticed that she had been on the same page since they arrived.  He couldn't suppress a chuckle._

            Sara looked up, squinting her eyes at him.  "What?"

            "Oh, nothing.  I've just never seen someone so intently focused on a menu before.  You memorizing it for future take-outs or something?"  He grinned.

            _If you only knew,_ Sara thought to herself.  _If you only knew what I was really focused on._

            "I'm just trying to make the right selection here.  I take my meals _very seriously."  She teased and dropped her gaze back to the menu.  _

            Good…teasing was good, she thought.  Friends tease.

            "So what'll it be?"  The waitress appeared from around the corner with a notepad and pen in hand.

            Nick nodded towards Sara.  

            "Uh, do you offer breakfast specials for dinner?"  She inquired.

            "24 hours a day, seven days a week."  

            "Great.  I'll have the pancake trio.  And can you make my eggs scrambled please?"

            "Sure thing.  What about you, honey?"  The lady turned to Nick, whose mouth had turned up into a crooked smile.

            "I'll have the same."  He closed his menu and handed it to her.  "Except make my eggs a little runny."  

            Wriggling his eyebrows at Sara, Nick stretched his arms out behind him and leaned backwards.  "Breakfast for dinner.  It's a favorite of mine."  

            Sara leaned forward, letting her elbows rest on the table.  "Don't worry," She said in a low voice.  "I won't tell anyone that you're a copycat."

            "Good.  You had me worried for a second there."  He mock sighed, pleased at the light-heartedness of their conversation, at the way it was going so far.  Sara settled back in her seat, allowing the noisiness of the diner—the numerous conversations and clanging dishes—to distract her momentarily.  She began thinking again about Randy McMasters and wondered if he had the potential to endanger Connie's children.  _Of course he has the potential__, Sara, he savagely murdered a person. The potential is obviously there. _

Nick watched Sara while her mind was at work.  She apparently didn't see him studying her, for she continued to flick her eyes around as if searching for something in her thoughts.  Finally he reached over and tapped on her water glass with his fork.  "What's up?"

"Where do you think he is?"  She asked suddenly, as if a previous discussion from earlier that day concerning their case had not ended.

"He who?"

"McMasters."

Nick sucked in a breath of air and leaned back in the cushioned seat.  "Who knows.  Probably halfway across the country by now."

She shook her head in frustration. "I'm so ready to close this case, you know?"

"Tell me about it.  It just sucks that we don't have enough evidence to convict this guy already.  Everyone's sure he did it, the evidence _leads to him…just the fact that he's still missing seals everything in my mind."_

Sara shrugged. "Well, it's not our job to find him.  It's our job to provide the proof that will get him locked away for good."

"I know.  It's just that….sometimes I feel like we've already done everything we can possibly do.  I don't know why, but I just feel sort of helpless right now."  

Sara nodded silently.  Neither spoke for several moments.

"I remember my psychology teacher in high school once used the saying, 'Most of the important things in the world have been accomplished by people who have kept on trying when there seemed to be no hope at all.'" She shrugged before continuing. "And as simple and cliché as that sounded, it kind of motivated me and has stuck with me ever since."  

Nick raised his eyebrows and nodded slowly as if really allowing the words to sink in.  "Man, the only thing I remember about my high school Psych teacher is that he had a beard down to his waist."

Sara grinned. "Sounds scary."  

"…And his name was Mr. Ziggenrat.  Seriously."

"Wow."  Sara's eyes were bright while she giggled.   Nick laughed as well.  He then searched Sara's face.  Biting his lip, his expression drew serious.

"You know, I'm really liking this…"

Sara paused.  "What are you really liking?"  She hesitatingly asked, afraid of already knowing his answer.

"This."  He spoke softly.  "Being here with you.  Laughing with you."

Sara self-consciously drew her hand up to the back of her neck, massaging it.  Nick noticed her sudden uneasiness and leaned forward.

"Is it okay that I said that?"  He whispered, his voice low and sexy.

"Well, ye—yeah, I mean…well…"  Sara cleared her throat, embarrassed by her lack of ability to form a clear response.  "Actually, it's probably not—."

"Listen, I don't expect anything from you.  You don't owe me anything, but Sara, you've gotta understand what _really_ happened the other day."  Nick's voice pleaded.  In his mind he didn't care how Sara would react to his explanation at that moment.  She needed to know the truth.

Shaking her head repeatedly, Sara would not meet Nick's stare.

"Sara, what you saw at the café," He shook his head as he spoke.  "It truly was not what you might have thought it was.  The girl—Heather—I knew her from high school.  I actually dated her for two years—,"

Sara lifted her hand, frowning.  "Listen, you don't—,"

"No."  There was something in his tone that grabbed Sara's attention.  "Hear me out.  She lives back home in Texas and was visiting the city for an interview with this huge law firm, which…which really is besides the point."  He paused and took a deep swallow.  "Sara, the truth is, she came on to me.  What you saw was her making a pass at me.  What you apparently didn't see was me rejecting it."  Sara eye's connected with his pleading stare. "I left right after.  I told her she had it all wrong, and then I left."

Sara didn't respond, nodding silently to herself as she returned her gaze to her folded hands in her lap.

"I'm sorry you had to see that.  I can't imagine what it would have been like if the situation was reversed…what it would've felt like to see you…"  Sara slowly drew her gaze back to Nick as he spoke.  "To see you kissing another guy."  He finished.  

Sara blinked.  She was speechless…and scared.  Nick had just told her everything she had been wanting to hear.  Yet now, she wasn't so sure what to do with the information.  For a long time, Sara simply stared at him.  Then her demeanor turned antsy, all of a sudden having no idea what to do with her hands.  She fidgeted with her glass, spinning it around on the table, and then brought her hands to her lap, wringing them together.  In her heart Sara wanted to embrace everything that Nick just confessed, putting their shaky history behind them and starting fresh.  Yet there was a little voice, a voice of past experience that whispered vindictively in her head, warning her, telling her to pull back…to not trust.  

Nick parted his lips slightly, staring at Sara, anticipating what she was going to say.  He wondered if he even wanted her to reply, for fear she'd say things he didn't want to hear.

            Unable to stand the silence any longer, Nick leaned forward before speaking up.  "Listen," He lowered his voice dramatically, as if sharing with her a secret.  "Like I already said, you don't owe me anything.  I know we already made it clear that we need not confuse our professional relationship with anything other than what it is—strictly platonic, nothing more.  I just needed you to know that I hadn't meant to hurt you." Nick flashed a sad smile.  

            Sara pushed a strand of her hair behind her ear, then slowly reached out and gently placed her hand on Nick's arm.  "Nick…"  Her eyes were dark and mysterious.  

            Suddenly a noise—loud, musical notes—interrupted her thoughts.  It was Nick's cell phone.  It went through every note of the annoyingly electronic version of the William Tell overture.  It paused momentarily, then started again, yet Nick's eyes remained focused on Sara.  

            She nodded towards him.  "Uh…you're—you're cell phone…"

            "What?"

            "It's ringing."

            "Yeah."  

"Are you going to answer it?"

            "No."  He replied, pretending like he wasn't hearing it.  Fellow diner's irritatingly peered over at him as the ringing notes continued to drown out their conversations.

            "Ok, you need to answer that."  Sara spoke adamantly.  

            Nick let out a frustrated sigh, angry at the interruption, and then quickly reached to his belt to grab his flip phone.  "Stokes."  

            Sara listened to his side of the conversation.

            "Uh, huh.  Yeah.  Well, no."  His face dropped.  "Yeah sure.  County landfill.  Got it.  I'll be there as soon as I can."  Locking eyes with Sara, he flipped his cell phone shut and gave her a distressing look.  "It was Grissom."

            "Oh?"

            "I have to leave."  

            Sara nodded understandingly.  She knew that Grissom wouldn't have called for Nick's help unless it was absolutely necessary.  Yet she was quite perturbed that she had not received a call as well requesting her immediate services.

            "I'm so sorry.  He's down two CSIs tonight.  He needs my assistance."  He lolled his head to the side.  "Rain check?"

            "Definitely." 

            "Alright."  He slid his body out of the booth.  "Thanks, Sara.  I'll call you later."  He gave her a quick squeeze on the shoulder and then headed out the diner.

            Sara sighed to herself and then motioned to the waitress.  "I'm sorry.  Cancel our orders please.  Something came up."  The waitress nodded and turned back to the kitchen.  Man, she thought, I was really looking forward to those eggs.

*********

            "_You've ruined me, McGregor.  For that I can never forgive you."_

_            "Oh, Rebecca.  Must I forever live in this torturous life without your face?"_

_            "I said I wouldn't forgive you.  But I will always love you."_

"Oh puhlease."  Sara cringed and quickly clicked off her television set as the two soap opera type lovers were embraced in a passionate kiss.  "Who actually talks like that?"  Sara tossed the remote aside, sighing as she realized she was once again speaking to herself.  _What to do, what to do, _Sara wondered as she got up from her couch and roamed her apartment.  

            She moseyed her way to her small kitchen and clicked on the radio as she began running the water in the sink.  _Might as well do something productive, she thought, glancing at a small stack of dirty dishes.  Humming along to the radio tunes, Sara began thinking about her dream from the previous night.  She hadn't given it much thought all day.  The sun's fluorescent rays making her nightmare less significant in the daylight, she had quickly forgotten about it.  But now, at ten-thirty p.m., an eerie feeling creeped over her as the threat of the nightmare intensified in looming darkness.  _

Her neighbor's wind chimes clanged noisily all evening declaring an unstable, windy night.  

            Suddenly weariness diffused through her entire body as she sank her hands into the warm, soapy liquid.  _I wish I could get some peaceful sleep for once_.  Yet sleep brought nightmares, so staying awake seemed the much more appealing option to her.  She thought of Connie Trevorson's distorted image, and her mind wandered to Randy McMasters again.  She shivered at the thought of him, her heart thumping a little harder as she replayed images of a man savagely murdering Connie—breaking her ribs with a crowbar and then slitting her throat.  

 She briefly considered checking the yellow pages again, remembering Nick's words last week about seeking professional help to push her in the right direction, to get her back in the right frame of mind.  No, she reconsidered, remembering Catherine's advice to take each day one day at a time, claiming that "slowly but surely" her nightmares and panic will dissolve.  _I just need to take it easy.  Stop worrying about everything.  _She nodded determinedly, rinsing off a plate.

            Sara's thoughts were suddenly interrupted by an abrupt knock at her door.  She jumped involuntarily, and then caught her breath as she peered over at her kitchen clock again.  Her pulse was unsteady, her mind already shaken up by images of her dream and the fear of a murderous psycho on the loose.  _Who could be knocking at my door this late?_

            Slowly wringing her dripping hands together, she swallowed hard and calmed herself down.  She finished wiping her hands off on her jeans as she made her way over to her door.  Peeking through the small window, she saw Nick.  

            "Can I come in?"  His voice was muffled through the oak wood.

            "Hey."  She greeted him, opening the door.  He held up one of several bags.

            "Come on in."  She moved out of the way for him and he strode over to the kitchen, placing the bags on the counter.  

Sara met up with him and peered into one of the bags.  "Is this for me?"

"No.  I brought all these bags of dinner over to your place and am going to eat it all myself."  

Sara rolled her eyes at his sarcasm.

"Of course it's for you, and me.  Sort of like a peace offering after rudely cutting short our dinner."

"That wasn't your fault."

"Yeah, well…"  His words trailed off.  "Have you already eaten?"  

"I grabbed a handful of mints on my way out of the diner earlier.  That's about it."  She softly chuckled.

"Good."  Nick pulled out several containers of Chinese food, and sat them on the counter.  Sara grabbed two bar stools, pushing them up against the ledge, and then snatched a couple of cokes from her fridge, placing them next to Nick's set-up.  "It's not pancakes and eggs.  Unfortunately, the diner doesn't do breakfast take-out."

"It's quite alright.  I love Chinese.  Plus, I'm so hungry right now, you could have brought over a bowl of anchovies and I would have graciously eaten them."  

"Really?  Because the thought crossed my mind…I love anchovies."  Nick joked, opening his box of fried rice.

"Gross."  Sara cringed, smiling.

"When I was younger, I had to order an anchovy pizza; it was the outcome of losing a dare with my friends.  It turned out I actually _liked_ the pizza, anchovies and all.  My friends were grossed out, not to mention pretty ticked."  Nick smirked.  They sat side by side, digging in to their delicious carry-out, not remotely caring how neat they were in front of each other.

"Well, this was a nice surprise.  I really did not expect you at my door when I heard the knock."  Sara spoke, swallowing a mouth full of noodles.  "How did the scene inspection go with Grissom?"

"Eh.  Nothing extraordinary.  Just another unimaginative killer dumping a body at the county landfill."  Nick replied.  It was a sad reality that it was not the first time they had investigated a body dumped there.

Sara finished as much as her stomach could handle, and then some, and after cleaning up her area, she shuffled over to the couch, plopping down in the cushions.  She sat there, facing Nick who was still nibbling on his last egg roll.  He was amazed how huge his appetite, even after being a nervous wreck while on the way over to Sara's.  Her reaction to his surprise visit, however, couldn't have gone better.  

"So, what do you think about the whole torn shirt thing?"  Nick questioned, referring to their case.  He finished his last bite, and dumping the remains of his food in the trash, made his way over to Sara.

"I'm not exactly sure."  She replied in thought.

Because there was only one couch in her living room, Nick plopped next to Sara, yet remembering her uneasy reaction to his words earlier that day in the café, made a comfortable distance between them.

"You know what I think?"  Nick asked, eyes determined.

"Shoot."

"Okay….lets say that you're a construction worker, dating this woman…"

Sara raised an eyebrow and smirked.

"For hypothetical reasons just follow me here…"  He added to her reaction.  "Okay, so you're a construction worker and you go to the woman's house to see her after work one day.  You are all gross and grungy, and you want to take a shower at her place.  What do you ask for?"

Sara followed his thinking and replied, "A change of clothes."

"Exactly, and considering the woman previously lived with her husband and would probably have some of his clothes still with her, she would give him what?"

"One of his old shirts."  She nodded, kicking herself for not thinking of it earlier.  "So, it's more than likely that Randy would probably have some of Frank's old work shirts.  I mean, especially considering Frank left all of the yellow ones with her."  She sighed, surprisingly amazed at this revelation.  Then, with a mischievous look in her eye, she turned sideways to Nick.  "So, when exactly did you start pointing the finger from Frank to Randy?  If I recall correctly, you weren't so gung-ho about admitting Randy was the probable suspect here."  She narrowed her eyes at him.

"Hey," He held up his hands.  "I never assume things.  Once the evidence started coming together was when I started looking in Randy's direction.  I'm not saying Frank's one hundred percent clear, but as of right now, all arrows point to McMasters."  

            She nodded, satisfied with his answer, and leaned back against the cushions.  Nick studied her slumped shoulders and puffy eyes, truly worrying once again about her sleep conditions.  

            To his surprise, Sara turned to Nick and smiled warmly.  "So, I believe we left some things unsettled earlier at the diner."  

            In response, Nick raised his eyebrows.  "Um, yeah, I guess so."  He replied softly, resting his head back in the same way hers was.

            "I'm really glad that you cleared things up for me.  And I'm so sorry for overreacting at the lab yesterday…"

            "No.  No, don't apologize.  Like I said, I don't know what I would've done…"  He looked past her and stared into space.

            She nodded.  

            "But, um, like you said…our kiss didn't mean anything to you anyways, so…"  He left his words hanging in mid air, looking for a reaction. 

            She slowly shook her head.  "That was me reacting defensively to what I saw.  You know I didn't mean it."

            Nick couldn't help but let out a heavy breath and grin.  "I'm glad to hear that."  

            "But…"

            "But?"

            "I don't know," She looked back at him.  "I mean, realistically speaking, could this honestly work?  You and me involved outside the lab?"

            "I guess we'll never know until we try…right?"  His voice was just above a whisper.

            She stretched her legs out in front of her and ran her hands through her hair, deep in thought.  She seemed a little distracted, probably from the heavy sleep lingering over her, Nick reasoned.  He noticed how her eyelids occasionally drooped from fatigue.               Instinctively, he reached over and cupped the side of her face, brushing his thumb up and down her cheek.  "How are you doing, Sara?  Are you getting _any sleep at all these days?"  He asked softly, compassionately.  _

            She closed her eyes and shrugged slowly.  "Not so much, no."

            "Nightmares still?"

            She nodded.     

            "I could stay over.  I could be here with you…"

            Sara inwardly cowered.  She wasn't sure about their potential, but she was sure she didn't want to throw herself out there so soon again.  _It's too soon, Sara._  As tempting as it sounded to let his presence fight away her nightmares, she knew she needed to give it more time before they had another "night" together.  

            She gave him a look, a silent communication that Nick seemed to read perfectly.  

            Understanding that it wasn't the greatest idea he stay overnight he fingered her hair briefly before taking his hand back.  "Or I could get you a day off tomorrow.  I already talked to Grissom about it last week, I'm sure—,"  

            It took a moment before the words registered in Sara's mind.  Frowning, she reared back, narrowing her eyes at Nick.  "Wait, you talked to Grissom about _what_ last week?"

            Nick, seeing her quick change in demeanor, stumbled over his words.  "Well, I, uh, I mentioned something about you not being able to sleep well recently."

            "You told him about my dreams?  I told you all that in confidence, Nick."  She clenched her jaw, still worn out from fatigue, yet allowing the anger to rise in her throat.

            Nick was shaking his head repeatedly.  "Sara, I didn't say _anything about your dreams.  He just came up to me and asked me a few questions about you—about your unusual behavior in the lab recently.  I only told him that maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea if you took a little time off, considering you've been a little sleep deprived."_

            "I can't believe you guys talked about that—that you felt the need to discuss my sleeping habits behind my back.  I haven't been slacking; I haven't been giving any less than my usual around the lab…"  She argued, her words trailing off as she searched through her thoughts, growing angrier by the second.  Nick didn't speak for a moment, hoping to somehow allow the time to calm Sara's overreaction.  _Can't she see that I'm just trying to help her?_     

            The wind chimes fiercely clanged outside, making anything but beautiful music.

            "I just don't understand…"  Sara shook her head slowly to herself, looking into her lap.  

            Nick placed a gentle hand on hers.  She quickly pulled away.  

            "No."  Her voice sounded wounded, hurt.

            Nick threw his hands up in the air in aggravation, allowing her reaction to jolt him up from the couch.  Standing upright, looking down at Sara, he was anything but calm.  "So, that's how it's going to be, huh?" 

*********

A/N: Yes'm.  The cliffhanger is back.  Will Sara have some sense knocked into her?  Will Nick storm out of the apartment?  Hmmm, tune in next time…er…check in SOON for another update of "Dealing."  Just to give you all a little heads up, I'm heading towards my conclusion somewhat in the near future.  Who know how many more chapters there will be….four?  five?  three?  *shrugs* We'll see.  Anyways, I'd be greatly obliged if you responded with a review!  Here are a few little quotes to chew on before signing off the page:

"The spirited horse, which will try to win the race of its own accord, will run even faster if encouraged."—Ovid 

"Appreciation can make a day - even change a life. Your willingness to put it into words is all that is necessary."—Margaret Cousins


	13. Dealing: Chapter Thirteen

Disclaimer:  I am in no way affiliated with CSI or its creators.  I just love to write…no harm in that!

Author's Note:  I just wanted to thank you all once again for taking time to read my fiction…I enjoy writing it so much and look forward to what you all have to say regarding my latest chapters.  Every comment is well appreciated and treasured.  Thank you so much!

Dealing: Chapter Thirteen

*********

Nick threw his hands up in the air in fit of aggravation, allowing her reaction to jolt him up from the couch.  Standing upright, looking down at Sara, he was anything but calm.  "So, that's how it's going to be, huh?" 

Sara looked away, stubbornly not meeting his stare.

"You know, just when I think I've begun to understand you, you throw me a curve ball.  It's like you run hot and cold, Sara, and that's just not fair to me."

"You don't know what you're talking about."  Sara replied coolly.

"I _don't_?  It's quite simple really.  You give out, you pull back, you give out, and you pull back again.  It's this sadistic cycle you've grown so accustomed to and it's making it really hard to work civilly with you." 

Sara flinched at the words, feeling their sting, yet knowing deep down the truthfulness they contained. "Well, if that's how you feel…"  Her voice was dry and indifferent.  Nick's eyes flashed with anger and he threw his hands up a second time, only to begin walking towards her front door.

"Unbelievable."  He muttered and then swung open the door.  "See you tomorrow night, Sara."  His voice dripped with heated sarcasm.

The door slammed with a loud bang, prompting Sara to pick up a nearby coaster, hurling it towards a wall in anger.

After starting the engine, Nick pulled away without looking back.

***********

The man sat in his car with his engine and lights off, careful not to make noise or draw suspicious attention to his 78' Cadillac Seville, tucked carefully behind the tall brush in the shadowy night.  He lit another cigarette, and took a satisfying deep drag before exhaling a billowing cloud of smoke which seeped through the small crack in the windows.  Closer now, he leaned forwards, his eyes focused, peering towards the small quaint house, attempting to spot the source of the muffled laughter he recognized ever so easily.  Every so often, he caught a glimpse of the small shadow move past the curtained windows, smiling to himself, cocking his head sideways.  Sweat trickled down the side of his face, the oppressive humidity of the night even more overwhelmingly without air conditioning, yet he made no move to stop it, to wipe it away.  

Finally, after getting his fix for the night, he started up his engine and slowly drove off, the already barely perceptible giggles becoming even more inaudible the further he drove away.  

He had waited long enough, knowing the time had come to move in, to accomplish what he'd been hanging around for this past week.  

************

It was late afternoon, and Sara knew she had more than a few hours until she had to be at the lab for her night shift.  Vowing not to think about the whole Nick incident from the night before, she pushed the painful episode to the back of her mind.

During her brief drive to the safe house, the sky had grown darker, the wafting gray clouds hinting at rain, shifting in clumps as they passed overhead.  

Sara took a swig of her bottled water after locking her car door and began heading towards the front entrance.  She was planning on visiting the children again, planning on making their day a little brighter with small games and fun company.  She also intended to visit with the headmaster of the safe house, hoping to gain details about the children's newly scheduled foster residence, along with the address and contact information.

As she played with Charlie and Claire, Sara didn't give one thought to the rocky night ahead of her.

*************

Nick put on his jacket, bustled down his front steps, and hurried his way to his car.  Rain had already begun its misty descent on the city, and Nick feared that any minute the clouds would open up and it would pour.  

He arrived at the lab twenty minutes late, and headed to the locker room to drop off a few of his belongings.  On his way, he ran into Catherine, who seemed to be heading in his direction as well.

"Hey Cath."  He met her stride and they entered the locker room together.  "Just got here too?"

She nodded, seemingly out of breath, as if she had run to the building. "Another five minutes, and we'd both be drowned rats."  She began pulling off her jacket.  "Can you believe this weather we are having?"

"Unfortunately it looks as if we might have to get used to it.  The weatherman reports a soggy weekend."

Catherine groaned, tossing her bag into her locker.  "Well, you're no ray of sunshine." 

He held his hands up.  "Just the messenger here."  He joked defensively.

"Soooo," Catherine angled her head sideways, shooting Nick a mischievous eye.  "How's your case coming with Sara?"

Nick hesitated slightly, fidgeting with his bag.  "Uh…pretty well."  Feeling the sensation of being watched, he glanced up only to find Catherine studying him.

"What?"  Nick raised his eyebrows.

"What's going on with you two?"  Catherine asked suspiciously.  She was no fool; she saw the looks they gave each other, the subtle affection they attempted to stifle around others.  Catherine had an eye for things like that; it was her sixth sense.

"With who?"

Catherine tilted her head and lowered her eyes at Nick, an expression that read, '_You know exactly who I'm talking about.'_

"_What?"  Nick's voice all of a sudden feigned innocence, like that of a young boy.  "I don't know what you're talking about."  He grabbed a file out of his locker before slamming it shut and strutting out of the room.  Catherine rolled her eyes before hanging her rain jacket in her locker and then hurried to catch up with Nick.  _

"I know its none of my business, but—,"

"You're right," Nick turned to her.  "It isn't any of your business."  With that he gave her a toothy grin, and she playfully shoved him in the shoulder.

"Fine.  Forget I ever brought it up.  But don't go running to me when you need any love advice."

"Ha.  Trust me, if I _ever needed love advice, you'd be the last person I'd __run to."  He scrunched his nose teasingly and held the door open to the break room for Catherine who was laughing under her breath.  _

"Well, if it isn't my two favorite CSIs."  Greg spoke jubilantly, standing near the coffee maker, no doubt waiting for a pot to brew.  Catherine walked right over to him and searched for a cup while Nick exhaustingly plopped down on one of the many metal chairs surrounding a large table.

"Why are you so extraordinarily cheerful tonight?"  Catherine questioned, raising an eyebrow at Greg.

"No particular reason."  He replied, finally being able to pour himself  his fix of caffeine for the night.

"No new love interest in your life by any chance?"  Catherine pried, elbowing Greg's arm as he stirred in his sugars.  

"No, and I wouldn't tell you if there was."  

"Uh, yeah you would."  Nick piped in.  Greg twitched a half smirk.

"Very funny.  Actually, because you insist on being _so nosy," Greg walked over to the table and sat beside Nick before continuing.  "Grissom paged me and asked me to meet him here.  He wants me to accompany you guys on the field tonight." He added, waggling his eyebrows with a proud grin._

"Us guys?"  Nick asked.

"Yeah, double homicide about a mile east of Lake Mead.  Apparently it's a big one…and they need all the help they can get.  He said he's using all you guys tonight."  

"Joy."  Catherine muttered into her cup before taking a slow sip.

As if on cue, Grissom burst into the break room, looking harried, and eyed each one of them.

"Where's Sara?"  He asked, removing his glasses momentarily.

Nick shrugged.  "I thought she might be here already."

"She's not.  I told Janice to inform her to meet here as soon as she arrives at the lab."  Grissom replied and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

Catherine glanced over at Nick, whose expression was semi readable.  His eyes revealed concern.

"Well, we need to get a move on.  We got a double homicide call about fifteen minutes ago.  Police just finished taping off the area and we need to get there before any of the physical evidence has a chance of getting tampered with by anyone who's not from the lab.  Warrick is already on his way over with the supplies."  Grissom stood still for a moment as if in thought.  "Nick and Greg, you ride with me.  Catherine…"  He turned to her and she raised her eyebrows.  "Wait for Sara and then take her with you.  If she's not here in fifteen, then go ahead and head over.  Got it?"

"Got it, boss."  She gave one swift nod, inwardly wincing at his order.  _Well, at least I'll be able to finish my coffee, _she thought, while tilting her cup to peer at the steaming liquid.

"Alright, let's move out."  

********

Catherine checked her watch one last time before standing up and pulling her arms through her forensics jacket.  It had only been about ten minutes since Grissom left yet she knew as much as Grissom did that if Sara was coming to work then she'd have been there by now.  Sara was never late.

Just as she was tossing her cup in the trash the break room door flung open, revealing a soaked Sara standing in the entrance way, her breathing short and ragged.  _Drowned rat, Catherine recalled, eyeing her.  Despite the warm smile Catherine greeted her with, Sara seemed a bit uncomfortable, even nervous._

"Where is everybody?"  Sara huffed.

"Gone," Catherine replied, grabbing a handful of paper towels and then heading towards Sara.  "Double homicide near Lake Mead.  Grissom wants everyone there…including us."  

Sara nodded, graciously accepting the towels and wiping her arms.

"Is Nick already there?"  Sara asked, keeping her eyes preoccupied.  

"Yes."  Catherine said slowly while studying her co-worker.  "He drove with Grissom and Greg."

"Huh…," Sara mumbled, and she seemed lost in thought again.

"We really should be there right now."  Catherine added and nodded her head towards the building's exit.  "Let's get going."

"Yeah."  Sara turned her body, still busy drying herself, despite the fact that she'd be right back in the rain within minutes.  Catherine reached for Sara's arm.  

"You okay, Sara?  You seem a little…off."

Sara blinked.  "Oh?  No, no, I'm fine.  I just…I guess I just didn't realize how late I'd be."

"And that's all?"  Catherine questioned, eyebrow arched.   

Sara hesitated, but only slightly.  Then she gave her best attempt at a smile, hoping her face wouldn't betray her.  "That's all.  Let's go."

*********

Within minutes they pulled up to a somewhat chaotic crime scene, police cars strewn around, their red and blue lights whirling crazily, strobing the open area.  Sara stared distractedly at the number of police and homicide team workers, some in uniform, some not, busily doing their jobs.  Several talked into walkie-talkies.  Many were taking photographs.  Some were adding extra police tape.  Whatever the task, every single person on the field was busy.  With so many people assembled at the scene already, they knew it was going to be a big case.

"This is gonna suck."  Catherine groaned before opening her car door and exiting.

Sara grabbed her gear and slung the crime kit bag over her shoulder before stepping outside the Tahoe.  The minute Sara's foot touched the ground it sank into the black sludge.  It was a musty and rainy out, the perfect combination for a miserable night. It wasn't a hard rain, just heavy enough to possibly wash away potentially usable evidence and make Sara's job a whole lot harder.  The humidity only made working outside next to unbearable.  

Heading towards the yellow tape, it didn't take long for Sara to spot Nick.  He was crouching beside Brass next to one of the bodies, holding a camera with a gloved hand, focused on his present task.  As if he sensed her nearby presence he suddenly looked up and his gaze fell right on her.  Sara glanced away, then found her eyes drawn to him again.  

There was a tension, a heaviness lingering, filling the space between them.  His expression was straight mouthed and serious, intently staring at her as she moved past him.  

Then Sara watched as he became distracted as Catherine and a detective approached his area.

She carefully lifted the yellow crime tape and bent under it, heading towards Warrick and the other body, about seventy feet from the first.  At the site of the sheet covered corpse, Sara wiped her rain beaded forehead and knelt down.

"What've we got?"  She looked up at Warrick, squinting through the rain drops.  

"Go ahead and pull back the cover.  I've already bagged as much evidence as possible from the body.  Photographs have been taken as well."  He replied.  

Sara drew back the sheet.  What she saw gave her pause, and she instinctively drew back.  A pale, blank face stared back at her, expressionless.  A small, neat hole, punctuated the victim's forehead.  

Warrick bent down beside her.  "We removed a small caliber bullet from the entrance wound.  It's a .22."  

At that time, Brass approached the two, and Sara turned her attention to him.  Brass had a look on his face that could have been easily mistaken by others as boredom, yet Sara knew he was simply worn and tired.  He scratched the back of his head before speaking.

"The other vic has identical fatal wounds...one bullet hole smack-bang in the center of his forehead.  Our killer's got a good shot."  

Sara nodded and turned her head back to the victim before Brass continued. "We also found traces of marijuana around.  Looks like a possible drug fallout."  

Sara swallowed hard, the humidity making it hard for her to breathe.  She needed a cool drink, something to ease her sudden nausea.  "I'll be back in a minute…gonna go get some water."  She cocked her thumb over her shoulder in the direction of the supply van.  "Need anything?"  She slowly rose.

"Nah.  I'm gonna start packing up.  Grissom wants most of this out of here before the media arrive."  Warrick answered.

"Alright."  She rubbed her wet hands on her jeans and began walking away. Weaving through the narrow space between two parked police cars, she headed towards the van, occasionally using her arm to wipe the rain off her face.  Just several feet away now her stride slowed as she spotted Nick standing by himself, his back turned to her.

"Hey."  She reached him, acknowledging him with a grim nod.  

Nick turned.  "Hi."  

Sara casually reached across Nick for a water bottle, feeling anything but casual.  

Silence.

"So why were you late?"  Nick asked, his tone dry yet curious.

"It doesn't matter."

"Grissom noticed."

"Yeah, well, that's because you have a big mouth."  

Nick's jaw clenched involuntarily.  "I didn't say anything, Sara.  He noticed on his own."  Nick let out a sharp breath, water droplets flinging from his lips.  "He's worried about you…and frankly, so am I."  

"Like I said, it doesn't matter.  So stop it…I don't need you feeling sorry for me."

Nick bit his tongue and shook his head angrily.  Then without another word, he turned and stomped off.  

Sara cringed at her own reckless words while speaking to Nick, wondering what it was that made her want to lash out at everyone around her, especially when it was blatantly obvious that they weren't try to pick a fight with her.  Nothing about her made sense anymore, even to herself.  Disheartened and confused, she let her back rest against the side of the van and slowly sank down until she was crouching close to the muddy ground.  She allowed her head to rest in her hands as she thought about the recent episode.

"Sara?"  

She lifted her head quickly at the sound of Grissom's voice, caught off guard.  

"You alright?"  He asked, his brow furrowed.  

Sara rose to her feet, embarrassed that he had caught her at such a vulnerable moment, and nodded.  "Yeah, I'm fine."  She sniffed, and then began walking away.  

"Sara, we need to talk."  He called out, his voice hard and serious.  Sara cringed at the sound of it, dreading what was about to follow. 

She turned to meet his unblinking stare, squaring her shoulders and standing upright.  "So talk."  

Grissom placed his hands on his hips.  "I have to be quite honest with you, Sara.  I'm a little concerned at your behavior in the lab recently.  Ever since the explosion you've been different…distracted."

Sara was silent, turning her head, stubbornly not meeting his glare. 

"The last thing I need is you endangering your case because of some emotional diversion in your life."

"Grissom—I," She began, attempting to reason.

"Sara, you've got some things that you need to deal with before you come back to work."

Sara's head snapped up.  "Wait…what are you—" Her voice trailed off, her eyes squinting through the rain to see Grissom's face.

"You're not on the case anymore.  Your leave starts now."  

Sara's throat constricted at his words and she blinked.  "I'm sorry, what?"  She asked incredulously.

"Personal leave, Sara.  You heard me."  

 "Wait, Grissom, we've already come so far in this case.  You can't just kick me off it just like _that_."  She argued, her voice rising with anger.  "Grissom," She pleaded.  "Don't do this."

"I just did."  His voice was firm, steel-like.  "Do I make myself clear?  This is not optional, Sara.  And if you want to avoid suspension along with your personal leave, then I suggest you leave now."  He paused.  "Don't elevate the situation here.  You are off the clock, Sara.  Go home."  Grissom shot her one last glare making clear his seriousness before turning around and heading back to the crime scene.

For a long moment, Sara stood frozen in place in a state of disbelief.  A rush of hurt overcame her, and she felt a balance between wanting to scream and cry all at the same time.  She didn't have the energy to separate her emotions; instead, they were all jumbled together inside her. She wanted to plead more with Grissom, tell him how ridiculous this whole thing was.  But instead of going after Grissom, she turned and headed towards her Tahoe, shaking off the temptation to fight more, to argue her case.  Sara knew with a sinking certainty that nothing she said would change Grissom's mind.  She could tell by the way he spoke, by the firm set in his eyes.  It had been made up before she had even arrived at the scene.

So as Sara slowly headed towards her Tahoe, she pulled the hood of her jacket carefully over her already damp hair for the first time that night, and then gradually zipped it up.  She crossed her arms over her chest, her mind swirling with confusing emotion, the world becoming numb around her. 

She knew she'd go home to an empty apartment, to no one.  She would have nothing to do, no one to talk to.  And at that moment, she _needed someone to talk to, someone who would be able to help her make sense of all this._

She inserted her key into the car door's lock and then glanced behind her shoulder to look at the crime scene one last time.  Everyone was still busy with their work, everyone except for Nick.  He was knelt down near other homicide detectives, yet he wasn't centered on what was before him like the others were.  His eyes were focused on Sara, staring at her through the streaking rain.  

She turned away ashamed, entering her vehicle.  It was at that moment that she realized that the one person who she needed to talk to the most, was the one person who she had pushed the furthest away.

*************

A/N:  To clear up any potential confusion, the crime scene detailed in this chapter has nothing to do with the current case Sara and Nick are assigned to.  They are just assisting and this particular crime will not be mentioned again on further chapters.  Just to let you all know in case you were wondering!  More chapters to come!  Keep the comments coming!

If you think that praise is due,  
Now's the time to show it,  
'cause a man can't read his tombstone when he's dead.--Anonymous

There are high spots in all of our lives and most of them have come about through encouragement from someone else. I don't care how great, how famous or successful a man or woman may be, each hungers for applause.--**George Matthew Adams **


	14. Dealing: Chapter Fourteen

Special thanks to those who reviewed last chapter: Jen, Lovely, Pam, pdhtgal, undacoveragent9, cRaZyPiXiE, MissyJane, spikes_storm, Lynn, Diana, krisnina77, PassionatePapist(Great e-mail!  No shout outs in this one, but keep your eyes peeled…SOON!), and Kirby Doggett.  Thanks so much for the encouragement and willingness to read!  You don't understand just how anxious I become to read the reviews and how ecstatic the feeling when I actually get them!  Each one is precious!

Dealing: Chapter Fourteen

*********

"I think we'll get lucky on this one.  The evidence is just so overwhelming…I mean, if we can cross-check the prints collected in the drug bust at Portland's last month, there's a ten to one odds that we'll nab Gonzalez and this case'll be closed tomorrow, you know?"  Catherine turned sideways at Nick as she drove along the wet roads heading back to the lab.  She was obviously excited at their elaborate findings of the night, and while glancing at Nick, realized he wasn't sharing in her enthusiasm.  She actually wondered if he was even listening to her at all.  His face stared blankly ahead, and it was blatantly obvious that his mind was not in the car with them.  "Yeah, and so after the case closes tomorrow I was thinking about picking up Yoda and heading over to Bermuda to throw back a couple of beers….wanna join us?" Eyeing Nick sideways, she wondered if she'd even get a reaction.  

"Mhm" Nick simply half-grunted.

"Okay, what's your deal?"  Catherine blurted, snapping her fingers in Nick's face.

"Huh?"  Nick seemed to snap to the moment, and he turned his face to Catherine's profile.  

"Where exactly are you right now? 'Cause, Lord knows, its nowhere in this vehicle."  

Nick let out a long sigh, his eyes dropping sadly.  "I'm sorry, Cath.  I guess my minds a little preoccupied."  

Several seconds passed before she spoke again.  

"It's too bad about Sara, huh…"  She mentioned, figuring Sara was what Nick was thinking about.  

Nick momentarily thought about her statement and then shrugged.  "She put it all on herself."

"I guess so."  Catherine conceded and then added, "However, we can't always control how we react to the unexpected cards life deals us.  Its not like she didn't give it a good try though, right?"  

"Yeah."  Nick admitted, although still not entirely focused on what Catherine was saying.  His mind kept reeling the same image of Sara's expression before she got into her Tahoe to leave the night before.  It was almost as if her eyes were asking for Nick's help.  

"Girl needs a break.  She might not know it yet, but this is a good thing for her." Catherine went on.

Nick didn't respond.  He knew just as well how good the break would be for her, although he wasn't thrilled he'd be working solo for the next couple of weeks or so.  Still, Sara and him were on the outs, so this break couldn't have come at a better time.  

***********

Sara put a pot on the stove and grabbed a can of chicken noodle soup from her pantry.  While her meal was heating up, she peeled off her work clothes and dumped them on the floor next to her washing machine.  A few minutes later, she was dressed in an oversized sweatshirt, slurping her soup over the kitchen counter.  She was glad to be out of the rain and the suffocating heat of the outside world and into her air conditioned apartment, yet was disturbed to find that her apartment just wasn't the same for some reason.  It didn't feel very comfortable, maybe for the simple reason that Sara knew she'd be spending almost every waking moment for the next week or so hibernating indoors.  

Sara placed her spoon in her bowl and pushed it aside, not particularly enjoying the heaviness the warm liquid left in her stomach.  In the hushed moment while simply sitting there, Sara heard everything from soft rain droplets, a distant train's whistle, and the sound of a gusty wind as it rushed against her outside door.  

_Quiet.  Quiet's good._

"I can do quiet."  Sara spoke to herself, although not sounding as convinced as she intended to be.  

It had been nearly an hour since Grissom put her on personal leave.  In actuality, when he first said those words—_your leave starts now—she wasn't sure she believed him.  Or maybe it just took longer than normal for the words to register in her head.  Either way, she was caught completely off guard.  She knew Nick and Grissom had talked about her recent behavior and she knew that Nick even suggested she take some time off to Grissom.  But for some reason, she felt invincible.  Like nothing would stop her from doing what she intended.  That night had given her a reality check and proven a great notion:  Life doesn't always follow a preconceived pattern.  And now she was angry, and tired, and feeling as if nothing truly mattered.  She brought her hands to her temples, trying to rub the pain away.  It seemed to throb somewhere from deep inside, which left Sara wondering if it was even the type of pain that aspirin could kill.  Probably not.  _

Outside, the rain started up again.

Somewhere, she knew that Nick was awake, probably already back at the lab, no doubt relentlessly going over the paperwork that came with that night's crime scene.  _Nick._

She was ambivalent about what her relationship with Nick actually was.  Was she really _that furious with him?  Is he more than a partner or less than one to her?  _

Whatever the answer was, now Nick was on his own.  He'd have to manage their case without her.  And she wondered if that at all bothered him.  If he'd miss her.  In her mind's eye, she knew Nick more than likely did not care.  And could she blame him?  She hadn't given him any reason _to_ care for her.  She went spastic on him the night before and had practically bitten his head off tonight for no good reason except the fact that she felt betrayed.  But had he actually even betrayed her?  The answer was probably no, and Sara knew that deep down.  

Now, everyone at the lab would know something was definitely going on with her.  By tomorrow, there would be rumors, people's gossipy whispering claiming that she had finally flown off the handle, that she was forced to leave due to her half-crazed mentality. 

Pacing around her apartment, she chided herself.  She had to stop thinking that way, worrying about other people, worrying about what they thought, what they would say.  It didn't matter.  Especially now at a quarter to midnight. 

Sara turned on soft music and attempted to fix her thoughts on other things, but the more she tried to even out her mood and convince herself that life was normal, the more everything just became obvious to her.  The only thing that would rid her of her spinning thoughts was sleep.  But something that Sara did not want to add to her plate was another terrifying nightmare.  

Eventually Sara found herself in bed even though she knew she wouldn't sleep.  Thoughts invaded her mind despite her best efforts to squelch them.  _What is my life?  She found asking herself that question more than once while lying there.  _

After an hour or so she sat straight up and tied her hair in a knot at the nape of her neck, her mind suddenly trying to focus, to clear a sudden revelation.  Then she slipped out of her sheets, walked to the bathroom, closed the door and took one hard look at herself in the mirror.  It was almost as if something just clicked inside her, like a key fitting neatly into a lock, and the person in the reflection seemed to be screaming the newly formed truth back at her.  It had come to her without warning, yet hit her with such intensity that there was no possible way to deny it.  It seemed so simple, yet it held so much uncertainty and fright within her:  _My life is nothing without Nick._

************

The next two days were a blur.  Sara watched a lot of television, ordered numerous take-outs, went running a couple times, even cooked herself dinner one night.  

She kept herself preoccupied; generally trying to forget about all that had just happened in her life.  Which was, of course, impossible.  And given the copious amounts of free time she had, since there was nothing for her to really do, not thinking about it was even more impossible than it would have been under ordinary circumstances.  Now Sara knew why she was at the lab so much.

More than a few times her mind wandered to Nick, and she considered calling him to apologize or just to talk.  She didn't though; the sudden revelation from two nights ago left her unsure of what to do next.  Calling Nick still seemed a little premature—she knew that much.  

And truthfully, she wasn't even sure she knew what she wanted with Nick.  But she knew what she didn't want, to rot away alone and forever be in a state of wonder of what _could have been._

Still, she needed time to regroup, to refocus her energy and to relax.  She needed to take advantage of this time forced upon her and actually slow down instead of frantically attempting to fill up every moment with a distraction.

And she fully intended to do just that—relax.  She would, just as soon as she did one last thing:  Visit the Trevorson children.  She needed to see them again.  She needed to tell them why she wouldn't be able to continue to stop by on a regular basis.  Because being with them only reminded Sara of the case, of her promise to their mother.  And as much as she hated to admit it, she knew that if she wanted to heal then she needed to let this case be handled solely by Nick for now.  When Grissom wanted her back at the lab, then she'd pick up where she left off, but for now, her life needed to be as uncomplicated as possible.  

On the day of her planned visit, Sara was up early.  She stepped outside to watch the sun rise, something she was capable of doing since her intentional slumber-less night wouldn't allow her to actually sleep in.  Coffee mug in hand, she looked to the horizon, watching as the rising sun slowly changed the morning sky from dusky gray to orange.  She took a deep lungful of the humid air and found her thoughts drifting to Nick.  She mentally pictured him sound asleep, tucked comfortably under his sheets.  Despite her sluggishness, she smiled and immediately found herself proud that she was still capable of doing so.

After finishing her coffee on the front steps of her apartment, she headed back inside, then poured herself another cup and plopped down on her sofa.   

She would visit the children later, probably around dusk.  Their preplanned activities had already claimed every afternoon of every day.  So she'd wait patiently; allow the time she had to think about what to say to the children.

***********

_He hadn't planned on things turning out the way they did.  In his mind, he thought one day he and Connie would run away together to some secluded land, away from all the madness of the real world.  He hadn't planned to kill her.  But he did.  _

_Ever since __California__, on the night he and Connie met, his life had entered an unpredictable world full of drugs and booze.  She made him that way; he could thank her for that._

_He remembered the first time he saw her.  He was on the other side of the bar, wiping down the counter at his place of employment at that time.  At just a quarter after eight on a Friday night, she strolled in with three other women, looking eager and sophisticated.  _

_He lived for beautiful women.  Yet he knew that she was somehow different.  Even with her cat-like stride, her long blonde curls, and the mysterious gleam in her eyes, she was more than just eye candy.  She had an aura about her filled with charisma and inner confidence that turned every head at the bar that night as she moved past; Connie was radiant and intoxicating.  From the moment he saw her, he knew he wanted her…and he would have her._

_They made eye contact; she smiled and sat at the bar stool right before him, allowing only the counter to separate them.  _

_"Double scotch, honey."  She purred, smoothly brushing her golden hair off one bare shoulder.  _

_"Coming right up."__  He had said with a wink.  _

_As a bartender he had mastered the art of picking up subtle conversations with those who sat around him.  It wasn't long after the three women arrived that he learned it was a girls' night out, a sort of bachelorette party; the next day Connie was to be married.  This of course, intrigued him even more._

_Two hours later her friends had already abandoned her, leaving her for some random beefcakes they found at the bar.  Which was okay with him; she was the one he had his eye on all night.  He knew he had caught her eye as well.  He worked his magic, effortlessly granting her the many drink requests of the night.  One time he even slid over a glass full of cherries along with her scotch.  This pleased her._

_As he closed up behind the counter, she watched him with a mischievous eye, still perched atop her stool as gracefully as one can be after five heavy drinks, leaning suggestively over the bar ledge.  She stumbled off her chair the same time he shut the lights to the pub.  Swaggering her way over to him, she then rose on her tip toes to whisper something in his ear.  _

_A half hour later they found themselves tangled together on a small bed at the local Motel 8.  _

*********

Nick switched the windshield wipers on as the rain began to trickle down.  Normally Nick didn't mind the rain, yet now its sole purpose seemed only to taunt him, to reflect his emotions and remind him of his dreary mood and impossible life.  He distractedly listened to the swooshing sounds of the wipers rhythmically dancing across his windshield as he drove to the lab for his regular night shift; he found himself already looking forward to the time when he'd be able to clock out. 

His previous night of work passed by with agonizing slowness.  It wasn't even the massive amounts of paperwork he had to fill out and file that got to him; it was the loneliness.  For two hours he sat unaided in one of the lab rooms working, occasionally being visited by Greg and Catherine, but for the most part alone with his thoughts.  He wondered every so often how Sara was holding up, what she was doing to cope with her mandatory leave and newly found free time.  He also wondered how he'd get along without a partner for the next couple of weeks or so.  

He debated calling her earlier in the day but almost immediately dismissed the notion for the simple reason that he was just too angry.  Angry with her, angry with himself, angry with how complicated his thoughts were, he wasn't sure.  He just knew he was angry and that calling her wouldn't lead to a peaceful conversation.  __

_Is she thinking about me at all?  _He found himself briefly wondering.

The spattering of heavier rain drops disturbed his thought.  In the distance through the windshield lightning could be seen streaking across the sky, followed by a faint thunder.

"Just terrific."  He sarcastically muttered under his breath.  _Get ready for a_nother fun filled night at the lab.  __

Nick accelerated a bit, in hopes that the sooner he arrived to work, the sooner it would be over.  And at that moment he was, of course, completely unaware of just how horrific his night would be.

**********

_Connie Trevorson's wedding was held on a Saturday morning at an Episcopal church in downtown __San Francisco__.  _

_She hadn't seen him sneak in and sit quietly in the back as she exchanged her vows.  She hadn't seen him watching her, smirking as she pledged her love and faithfulness to another man.  No, that day she hadn't seen him.  He often wondered what she would have done if she had. _

_Months later he moved to __Las Vegas_.  Sure, he loved the grand city just as much as the next guy, but it wasn't his fascination of the flashy lights, the casinos, or the strip clubs that prompted his move.  It was his fascination of Connie. When he learned that her husband got a job offer in Vegas and they would be leaving, he knew where he needed to be.__

_It was in Vegas where he learned the most about Connie.  He began stalking her regularly, carefully, so that no one would see what he was up to.  He routinely went to her home to watch her, to see how she lived.  She never suspected his presence.  He was very good about keeping himself quiet and hidden beneath the shadows. _

_Connie gave birth to her first child that year.  Because of the new baby in the house, she took a leave from work and was at home to tend to the child's needs.  _

_He often wondered if the baby was the reason Connie and Frank began drifting apart.  They spent less and less time with each other, and when they were together it seemed as if it took no effort for them to argue and fight, raising their voices just loud enough for him to hear from the outside of the house.  _

_When Connie returned to work a year later, she began seeing someone named __Jordan__.  In his early 20s, he was young and attractive and worked in her bank.  As much as this angered him, he was glad to see that her marriage was becoming almost worthless to her and that the time was near for him to step into the picture again.  Soon, he would become part of her life._

_And he was.  Not long after, he purposefully "bumped" into her after she was leaving her day shift at the bank.  She looked pleasantly surprised to see him, and that encouraged him all the more.  He made sure she believed it was purely coincidental, them moving to and living in the same city after all these years of having the one night stand.  _

_That night they went to an upscale bar and he bought her a few beers.  They talked for hours and before they went their own ways for the night, she slipped him her cell phone number.  _

_It became routine for them—meeting up after her work to have a drink or two, occasionally going back to his place.  It was a passionate affair, and never once did she portray guilt or seem as if she intended to break it off with him.  _

_Nevertheless, more years went by and Connie gave birth to another child.  He was bothered at this, yet soon became indifferent to it because of the rift it had left in Connie's marriage.  The worse her marriage, the more time he got with her.  _

_He hadn't seen it coming when it did, but things began to change.  Connie began spending less time with her husband and less time with him as well.  He called her work on a daily basis, even dropped by often to know where she was.  Many times, she had left early with no explanation of where she went.  He placed angry phone calls to her cell phone, demanding that she see him.  Sometimes she called back, sometimes she didn't, either way it didn't seem much of a priority for her to see him anymore._

_Connie divorced Frank soon after, yet it was blatantly clear that he was not the reason for it.  He soon learned of her many affairs with other men.  After weeks of trying to get in touch with her, he went to her house and waited for hours for her to return.  It was clear that she was jolted by presence as she pulled into her driveway, her kids in tow.  She yelled for them to get inside the house, to go upstairs while she dealt with some business outside.  _

_He yelled in her face, screaming that she pulled him along, that she toyed with his emotions.  She laughed and told him that he never meant anything more to her than a weekend fling.  Following the huge blowout in her driveway, she told him she was moving anyway, leaving with the children, and would in no way share with him her destination. _

_She had died too young, some would say.  And in his mind maybe that was true.  Yet it had to be done.  Driven by compulsion, he had no other choice.  _

_She had planned on taking away the one thing that was just as much his as it was hers:  Claire.  _

_And now was the time to claim his possession, to get his child back. _

_In the shadows behind the trees, he looked up at the unaware house.  Every nerve in his body was tuned and hummed with anticipation.  Then with his right hand, he reached next to him and gripped the cold steel gun._

**********

What started off as a steady rain, soon developed into a full fledged downpour.  Had Sara known how terrible the weather would have been when she left her apartment earlier, she probably would have stayed indoors, waited the rain out.  Now it seemed almost silly to turn back.  She was minutes away from the safe house.  

Lightning flashed not far from her Tahoe, and the thunderous, rippling effect made her heart thump heavily against her chest.  Squinting hard, wishing her windshield wipers were at that moment capable of moving faster, she let her concentration focus solely on her driving.  The sun had just set, and although it was not yet black out, the sky hinted at darkness, making it hard for her to see without much light. 

As she turned onto the woodsy gravel road that led to the safe house, Sara felt an overwhelming sense of foreboding.  Because it was storming out, Sara attributed her uneasiness to the weather.  However, as she drew nearer to the house, the dread and anxiety became almost unbearable.  

Just yards now from the house, as she saw the image displayed through her windshield, she knew why.  Sara's breath caught in her throat at the sight of it all.  

Two women from the safe house stood on the front porch.  One frantically paced back and forth, hysterically talking into a portable phone.  The other one was on her knees.

She heard the women's ear-piercing screaming over the pounding rain.  

Throwing her vehicle into park, Sara jumped out into the blinding rainfall, rushing towards the house.  

Both women looked pale, almost nauseous, their eyes haunted.  

The one woman still cried out as if she were hyperventilating, frenetically pointing her finger towards the muddy road.  

"What's going on!"  Sara called through the drenching rain, her heart furiously pounding.  

"He took her!"  The woman's voice was heavy with terror and panic as shook uncontrollably.  

Sara stopped short.  She spun her head around her, her eyes alert, darting to the road, then to the woods, back to the women.  "Wha—what do you mean?!"  

The rain fell with more intensity.  Sara did not notice.

The woman then covered her face with her hands, rocking back and forth, crouched to the ground.  

"He took her….he took her."  She still repeated, her cries muffled with her hands, lost in a world of shock.

The other woman clicked off the phone, tears streaming down her face.  "Claire," She answered shakily, her voice tight and remote.  "He took Claire." 

Sara did not know exactly what happened next.  Within seconds, however, she was behind the steering wheel of her Tahoe.  It fishtailed sideways as she gunned the engine and headed off down the narrow road with only one mission in mind:  Save Claire.

*************

A/N:  I'm so sorry it took so long for me to update…went on vacation for a few days and used my time to relax and bask in the sun.  Thanks for hanging in there; there should be a new chapter up sooner this time around!  As always, please review and give me your take on the chapter!  More to come…trust me, next chapter will be intense! 

We live by encouragement and die without it--slowly, sadly, angrily.--**Celeste Holm**

You need to be aware of what others are doing, applaud their efforts, acknowledge their successes, and encourage them in their pursuits. When we all help one another, everybody wins.--**Jim Stovall**


	15. Dealing: Chapter Fifteen

A/N:  Thanks to all who read and reviewed last chapter….I just have to comment on them:

**pdhtgal:  OH NO is right!  I tried to update as soon as possible…hope you like it!**

**spikes_storm**:  That's so great to know you are enjoying the fic…thanks for your encouragement!

**krisnina77**:  Yay!  Thanks…actually when I first wrote Catherine's remark I had Obi-Wan instead of Yoda, but decided to change it because of the better mental image Yoda left…hee…anyways, thanks for your well-thought out review…it was great!

**PassionatePapist**:  Where do I even begin!  You had me rolling with this one…Ever thought about writing a humor fanfic for CSI?  That would AWESOME!  Anyways, keep the veggie peeler in hand…soon, very soon…oh yeah, I would love to know what song you assigned to THIS chapter!  

**Vegetarian**:  Ahhh….refer to bottom of page!

**Mia**:  Glad to hear it…also refer to bottom of page for answer!

**cRaZyPiXiE:  just keep reading…I think you'll like my conclusion which will be coming soon!**

**MissyJane**:  Thanks so much!  I hope you like it!

**tv-fan-06**:  Ahh, the drama!  Heh.  So much drama!  Thanks for your push…I think I started writing as soon as I saw your review!

**Pam**:  You are so sweet and encouraging!  Your reviews are very well-written and I am so excited to see that you regularly check up to see if my fic is updated!  You don't know how much that means to me!  Yay!  I think I might cry…*sniff*  Okay, I'm good ;-)

**georges**** girl:  Aww…thanks for the compliment!  **

**Kirby Doggett**:  Hope you've got more equipment and gear…because this chapter, my crazy friend, has another *cliffhanger!*  Muahahaha!  

Now…on to the madness!

Dealing:  Chapter Fifteen

********

The windshield wipers furiously crashed back and forth in a vain attempt to dispel the rain that poured onto her car like an ocean wave.

No streetlights.  No moon.  The only guide Sara had was her own Tahoe's headlights to see through the blinding rain exploding from the sky.  

Darkness had completely enveloped the night by then, the moon hiding behind the heavy storm clouds.  As Sara sped along the path, trees became more abundant, crowding and drooping over the edges, yet remained a blur as Sara flew past them.  The rain pelted loudly on her car, yet even louder, Sara felt, was the sound of her unsteady heart, deafeningly pulsating in her eardrums.  Knuckles white, she held the wheel tightly, her face displaying complete concentration. 

Somehow, someway, Claire had been kidnapped from the safe house.  And although no confirmation had been made on the kidnapper, Sara had a pretty good idea of who had her.  Her gut told her it was Randy McMasters.  __

She squinted her eyes harder and tried to steady her breathing as the vehicle picked up more speed.  Then, all of a sudden, what seemed to be the twin red glow of taillights appeared through the impossible rain, making clear a vehicle was not far ahead of her.

_Oh my gosh, _Sara thought, her adrenaline pumping.  _There he is._

The path curved and for a moment Sara thought she lost sight of the other car.  Panicking, she pressed harder on the accelerator to catch up.  Suddenly the wheel jerked from under her tight grip, momentarily thrusting her Tahoe off the trail.  In one swift motion, Sara wrenched the wheel over, making a sharp turn back on the path and regaining control. 

Sara let up a little on the gas.  _Don't kill yourself, Sidle.  __How exactly would you plan on saving Claire then?_

At that moment, every instinct screamed at her to call for back up.  Fumbling for her cell phone she impulsively punched Nick's cell number.

"C'mon…c'mon…"  Sara impatiently waited as the phone repeatedly rang.  After several seconds, an automated voice told her to leave a message after the tone.

"Nick, it's Sara."  She began anxiously.  "Nick, Claire's been kidnapped from the safe house.  I don't have any details for you except that I am in pursuit of a vehicle presumed to be holding Claire and the captor.  I'm going to call the police department and give the description of the vehicle and my whereabouts as best as I can.  In the meantime, I'm going to keep following him and will call back as soon as possible."  The words flew from her lips so quickly and shakily that Sara only hoped Nick would be able to understand her.

The storm weakened a little and the vehicle in front became clearer to Sara as she raced forward.  

If the captor hadn't known someone was following him before, there was no mistaking he knew now.  Just a few yards away now, Sara saw that his vehicle abruptly shot forward, creating a huge gap between them and then disappeared around another curve. 

Through the haze of chaos that was clouding Sara's mind, she knew she was in trouble and suddenly realized the precarious nature of her position.  In her haste, she'd put herself in danger.  However, thinking only of Claire, she kept on knowing that at that moment, Sara was the only person Claire could count on.

Sara called the police department and they told her they were already informed of the kidnapping—the head keeper had called 911 just as Sara had arrived—but anxiously received the added information, including her whereabouts and the description of the vehicle: a white, older model Cadillac.  Before they hung up, the police demanded that she stop her pursuit, that dispatch had already sent out the squad cars and she needn't cause unnecessary harm to herself by getting involved in this risky situation.  Reiterating that she was not an actual law enforcement officer, they told her that she needed to step back and let the police take over from this point on.  

Although Sara heard faint hums of police sirens in the distance, she pressed onward.

***********

Nick sat wearily at the break room table exhaustingly rubbing his eyes.  After having arrived about fifteen minutes beforehand, he immediately made his way to the coffee maker, relying on the black liquid to reenergize him.  Just as he was pouring in his sugar, the break room door flew open and in rushed a troubled looking Catherine.  She was obviously out of breath yet didn't give herself pause before speaking to Nick.

"Nick…I've been trying to get in touch with you. Where's your cell phone?"  

Nick furrowed his eyebrows and immediately reached down to his belt, where he found an empty cell holster.  Groaning, he spoke, "Must've left it at home."  His eyes then returned to Catherine who was shaking her head with a look of apprehension.  The nature of her eyes immediately sobered Nick, and he quickly rose from his seat.  

He hesitated slightly.  "Why?  Catherine, what's going on?"

"Nick, you're not going to believe this…"

***********

_Please let her be okay, _Sara prayed.

Despite her fears about the young girl, Sara had just seconds before slowed her Tahoe, figuring that she was, perhaps, endangering the situation even more by staying hot on the kidnapper's trail.  She continued driving at a fast pace, yet remained out of sight for the time being.   Her fears of losing sight of the captor were quelled by the simple reasoning that they were both heading down the same one way path which he would inevitably continue down.  

Sara swallowed hard, her heart beating even more rapidly than before.  

Briefly surveying her surroundings, Sara realized she had no idea where she was.  This was most certainly not an area many Vegas civilians had frequented, including her.  Her only hope that the police would find them was the mere fact that it was the only other path leading out from the safe house.  

Sara focused on the outside noises, realizing she hadn't heard the sirens in awhile.  With a keen ear, she let her car window down just a crack and listened.  Sure enough, she heard the siren's echoes.  They weren't yet in sight, but they were close.  

_Hurry.__  Please hurry._

_************_

Nick turned the key into the ignition and threw the car into gear, switching off the unbearably chipper voice on the radio station and gunning his Tahoe, heading in the direction of the safe house.  

A cold knot was forming in his stomach and he was attempting to fight away panic, taking deep breaths, reminding himself that everything would be okay.  

While in route to his destination, rain continued to sporadically pour down, let up and then come down hard again.  In some places rain fell so fiercely that the traffic slowed to fifteen miles an hour.  Cursing under his breath, Nick jerked the wheel, weaving in and out of traffic at a high speed, breaking every road law known to mankind.  

The news Catherine relayed to him minutes before was absolutely chilling.  Claire had been kidnapped.  Sara was hot on the trail.  Several questions immediately flooded his mind.

_How on earth did this happen?  Is Sara in real danger? Would this person hurt an innocent child?  What is it going to take to stop him?_

After he heard the situation while at the lab, he immediately grabbed his jacket and took off.  Although it was not his place to become tangled into the matter, there was no stopping him.  With Sara right in the midst of danger, he was left with no choice but to become involved.

Every muscle in his body was alert, tense.  Craning his neck forward to focus on the road, he sped up and took the one road that led to the safe house.  

Nick recognized all too well the sensation streaming through his body.  The feeling of anticipation when his brain screams at him to get ready, when the adrenaline pumps so fast through his system that he knows something drastic is about to occur.  This only made Nick drive faster, ignoring the numerous stop signs and the slick road conditions. 

_I can't believe her, _Nick thought.   

It was so like Sara to irrationally put herself in imminent danger.  To not fully think through the situation at hand.  Man, was she stubborn.  He shook his head in anger, clenching his teeth, growing more anxious by the minute.  

_What is she doing!  What could she possibly be thinking right now?!_  Nick slammed his fist against his steering wheel, so riled at Sara for foolishly compromising her safety like this.  And he knew her all to well to think that she'd stop at any time before she absolutely had to.  All Nick recognized now was that he had to get to her, and get there fast.  

Nick didn't even see the safe house as he flew past it.  He knew it would be there, yet kept his eyes fixated on the path before him as it became more narrow and enclosed with heavy trees and brush .  He heard the sirens in the distance—somewhere ahead of him.  

Occasionally, he used his brakes as the trail sharply curved and then stretched out again.  His wheels sped along the recently lined tire tracks, confirming he was heading in the right direction.  

The rain began falling, once again, in heavy pelts.

**********

Eyes wide, Sara focused on the image displayed beyond her windshield.  Her headlights revealed a small field, enclosed by thick trees and foliage.  Located off to one side of the field was a run down trailer….and next to the trailer was parked a vehicle—a white Cadillac.  Sara took in a quick gasp and swallowed hard the lump in her throat.  Maybe if her body hadn't been so numb with fear she would have recognized the warning flashing in her mind, telling her stop…wait for help.  However, her adrenaline propelling her forward, she parked her car in the darkness and grabbed her gun out of the glove compartment.  

Despite the rain, Sara hopped out of her car, gun grasped tightly between her trembling fingers.  Her hair began to slowly become soaked, clinging to her face in dripping clumps.  She brushed it off to the side, and then slowly crept toward the trailer, suddenly very thankful for the dark night to cloak her body.  

She heard the sirens nearing her.

Suddenly, Sara's head snapped up.  Almost swearing she heard a faint cry, she spun her body around, every sense heightened.  

Nothing.

She continued on, moving ever so slowly, careful not to be unexpectedly caught off guard.  Just several feet now from the vehicle, she crouched down to the ground, inching her way closer.  She clung onto the gun bringing it close to her chest, holding it steady, readying herself.

Her heart felt as if it would explode in her chest.

Then in one swift motion, as she reached the side of the car, she jerked her arms forward, gun clasped with both hands, squinting through the merciless rain that only blurred her vision.  Pressing the now dripping weapon close to the windows, Sara craned her neck to peek inside. 

Nothing.  Sara swore under her breath.

From behind her the haze of red and blue lights swirled, reflecting in the windows of the vehicle.

_The trailer?__  Were they in the trailer?  Sara wondered, casting a glance at the trailer's windows from which no light shown forth.  _

As the squad cars screeched to a halt, mud spraying all around, several uniformed officers quickly jumped out of the vehicles, placing themselves in a protected stance behind the car doors, guns aimed forward.  At the sound of the chief's demanding shout, Sara spun around and froze.  

"Drop your weapon!"  

Sara placed her revolver on the ground, and then slowly stood, holding her hands up.

"Don't move!"

"I—," Sara began to defend herself.

"Identify yourself!"

"Sara Sidle!"  She called through the rain.  "Las Vegas Crime Lab!"    

The chief immediately recognized the name and ordered his officers to let down their weapons.  Given permission to pick her gun back up, Sara jogged toward the chief, heading against a stream of officers who were, just seconds before, ordered to raid the area.  

The chief took a few swift steps towards Sara, holding one hand above his brow, shielding his eyes from the rain.

"What are you doing here, Sidle?"  He asked, his voice low and ominous, a look of bewilderment on his face.

"I arrived at the safe house just seconds after Claire was taken.  I followed the car as close behind as I could and just got here."  She turned to face the chaotic scene of officers rushing the trailer.  "They were in that car."  She waved her hand towards the Cadillac, her voice shouting through the thick rain. "But…I—I don't know where they are now."  

The harried chief narrowed his eyes, studying the whole area.  Distractedly, he spoke to Sara, "Well, we'll take it from here.  We appreciate your leads but you understand you need to leave."  

Noticing Sara's resilience he inched closer to her and placed a hand on her shoulder.  "We'll get 'em."  And with that he turned and headed in an opposite direction.  

Sara understood that she needn't get in the way, yet couldn't pull herself from the area until they found Claire.  She desperately scanned the woods, wanting to help, not knowing exactly what to do.  

**********

He saw the kaleidoscope of lights rip through the darkness, and seconds later slid his Tahoe to a halt several feet behind the cop units.  

Jumping into the rain, his pulse quickening, he immediately noticed Sara's lonely figure nearby.  A wave of relief flooded over him; she was okay.

He rushed towards her.  "You're crazy, you know that?!"  He called out. 

At the sound of his voice, Sara whirled around.  "Nick!"

He was shaking his head now, distractedly looking towards the chaos nearby.  "You could have gotten yourself seriously hurt.  You're unbelievable."  He shouted louder than necessary over the blinding rain.  

"I was _helping out."  She defended through clenched teeth and turned to move towards the commotion.   Nick reached out and grabbed her arm._

"You _need to leave…now"  _

Sara yanked her arm free, standing rigid and turned her head.  Her focus drifted back to the commotion at the trailer, her eyes searching, scanning.  "I'm a part of this now…I _need_ to find Claire."  She said, not looking at Nick.

He moved in front of her to gain back her attention and pointed his finger at her accusingly. "You are NOT supposed to be here!"  Nick's anger took his voice up another octave.  

The glare of irritation he turned on her was matched by a stubborn one of her own.  Sara then bit her lip, recognizing a sort of compassion in Nick's eyes behind his anger.  

He reached inside his pocket and abruptly tossed his Tahoe's keys at her.  "Go get in my car and wait for me.  I'll be there in a minute."  He gave Sara one last stern glare before turning away, jogging towards the head chief who was standing near one of the cruisers, speaking rapidly into a walkie-talkie.  

Sara stared at his back before dejectedly walking back towards his vehicle, surveying her surroundings.  The police lights splashed off the trees, flashing without sound.  Officers swarmed the trailer, shouting threats and demands, yet from the sound of it, Sara knew they hadn't found anything yet.  

Claire and her captor were nearby.  They just had to be…lurking somewhere in the darkness.  _Please, please let her be okay._

Just then, a chilling scream pierced the darkness.  

Sara jerked her head up, alert, her heart skipping a beat.  

_Claire._

And then, before she knew it, she was running.  Running in direction of the sound, running into the woods, adrenaline singing in her ears.  

************

A/N:  Please respond and let me know what you think!  Comments are **greatly appreciated!  The next chapter will be updated shortly(hopefully)!**

Because of the comments others have recently posted, there may be a lingering question or two in your mind…Here are some answers to a few:

_Sara was eating chicken in the last chapter…what's up with that?_  Yes, I know…major vegan slipup on my part.  Just another thing that, in fact, proves I am not a perfect being.  While I could change it, I won't, and for the sake of my fanfic Sara will be a pseudo-vegetarian.

_Why exactly does Sara care so much for the children?_  Well, for one, Sara has a big heart.  In my story she was there at the crime scene the night of Connie's murder and had seen the look on their young faces as they were told that their mother had been killed and was not coming back.  Being of kind nature, and partly because of her mental vow to Connie, she felt the least she could do was spend time with the kids…and while doing so, grows to love them.

_Do the CSIs actually carry guns on them?  _While I don't know the definite answer to this question, I do know that in the episode _Play with Fire Sara did, in fact, have a gun on her(remember when she was the first to pull it on that guy?)_

I hope that helps!  


	16. Dealing: Chapter Sixteen

A/N:  I tell you—all of you who posted for Chapter 15 were unbelievably and amazingly kind!  If I knew you, I'd take each and every one of you out to lunch!  Or, uh, because I'm your stereotypical college student—broke (another reason why it would be stupid to sue me *DISCLAIMER* I own nothing on this page except for the story itself…characters ain't mine!)  Anyways, back to my previous thought…because I'm broke and because there were so many beautiful comments I'd have to take you all out for a cup of coffee instead of lunch.  Unless of course you don't like coffee…then it would be a cup of water.  *Sigh*  Ahem.  BECAUSE that would never happen in a million years you'll have to settle for my sincere thanks and appreciation for each and every one of you.  

For real….thanks.  You all are awesome.

And now….

Dealing: Chapter 16

************

A chilling scream pierced the darkness. 

Nick head snapped up and he swiftly spun his body in the direction of the echo.  Then his eyes immediately flicked to his Tahoe, where what he saw, or rather didn't see, put his heart high up in his throat.

Sara was gone.

Scanning the area, he was hit with the chilling realization.  Sara had taken off in the direction of what seemed to be Claire's voice.

Adrenaline surged through his limbs as his feet took off from under him, propelling him forward into the dark woods. 

 "Sara!"  He called frantically.  

Nick had never run so fast.

***********

Sara found it hard to run in the rain soaked ground, her feet sinking in at odd angles.  Luckily the rain let up, allowing her eyes to see clearer than before.  

She barely felt the branches and twigs tearing at her flesh as she raced through the black woods.  Sara's brain worked furiously, thoughts racing.  _Where is Claire?  Is she hurt?  Will I find her in time?  Faster.  She had to run faster.  _

_This is all too familiar,_ Sara recognized in the midst of her panic.  _I've done this before._

Sara reached for her gun holstered on her belt, making sure she had a weapon of defense.  _Just in case, _she thought.  

Then it hit her.  This was the situation she had been dreaming about; the nightmare that followed the lab explosion.  But this was not a dream.  It was real; it was happening right now.  __

Every limb ached with pain and exhaustion, yet Sara didn't even notice, she was numb to her body.  She pressed on, trying not to trip over the fallen tree stumps and limbs in her way, suddenly unaware of her direction.  Frantically she called out, "Claire!"  __

Her call was answered with a fierce blow to her stomach.  The force of the tree limb across her torso immediately brought Sara to her knees, gasping for air.  The pain surged through her body like a jolt of electricity.  Struggling on the muddy ground, Sara was all of a sudden very aware of the shadowy figure standing over her.  

"Get up!"  He called, kicking at her rib cage.  Sara dizzily tried to push herself up with one arm, the other one reaching for her gun holster.  The man wasted no time in taking his advantage after seeing Sara grasp for her gun.  He swung the broken wood at her again, this time propelling her backwards with a crack to her shoulder. 

_No, this isn't happening, _her mind cried, her hand instinctively brought up to her injured arm.  Her vision blurred.  A piercing ring vibrated in her ears.  Weakly, she tried to sit up but was yanked backwards by her hair.  She gasped in pain as her head was viciously jerked in an unnatural way.  

"Stand up!"  He ordered, grabbing at her to raise her wobbly body.  Then he immediately reached down and un-strapped her gun from its holster.  As he was doing this, Sara's vision began to refocus, the ring in her ears fading out.  That's when she saw the tiny body, hands and feet tied, lying on the ground before her.  

"Claire…"  She choked out, coughing on the blood trickling down her throat.  Claire struggled, eyes wide, her mouth muzzled with a torn piece of clothing.  A sudden burst of strength rushed through Sara as she watched the helpless child thrash about.  Raising her knee in front of her, she kicked her leg backwards, aiming in between the man's legs.  Sure enough, she hit her target with a powerful punt, sending him reeling backwards, doubled over in pain.  Sara took this chance to get to Claire, dropping to her knees and, despite her overwhelming pain, crawling to her.  Groaning with every move of her muscles, Sara finally reached the young girl.  

Claire watched silently, tears streaming down her swollen face, as Sara worked to free her feet from the bonds.  As soon as the tie loosened its grip on her, Claire scrambled to her feet, and stared down at Sara horrifyingly, silently crying.

"Go…"  Sara called.  When Claire didn't budge she spoke louder. "Go!"

Claire hesitated one last time before turning and taking off into the darkness, free from her captor.  

Now, if only she could get her strength, if only she could just stand up…

Sara rose halfway off the ground before she felt the impact of a fist slam into her head.  With such a powerful force Sara was hurled to the ground, landing on her already injured arm.  The impact knocked the wind from her, leaving her breathless on the ground, vulnerable to her attacker.  

He paced back and forth furiously, cursing, jerking Sara with him as he moved.  She struggled with what little strength she had, which she found was close to none.  Her body was practically lifeless in the arms of McMasters.  Even so, had she any strength within her, her options were very bleak.  Sara's cold, steel gun which now had been turned and trained on her skin reminded her of that fact.  The very gun which she had used as means of protection for years had ironically turned into the very thing that threatened to end her life at any moment now.  Firmly gripping the steel, his finger unnervingly caressing the trigger, McMasters grew more unstable by the minute.

His actions revealed his plans had crumbled and was, at that moment, frantically trying to revise a new one.

Just then, Nick came surging out of the darkness before them.

"Whoa, whoa!"  McMasters yelled, all of a sudden caught off guard, his voice portraying frantic desperation.  "Don't you move an inch, buddy!  You stay _right_ there!"  McMasters commanded, waving his gun forward, pressing Sara against his body with one strong arm.  Nick abruptly stopped, breathing heavily, and held his hands up.  The image before him left him in awe and he immediately felt the sensation of vomit rising in his throat.  His wide eyes traveled fearfully up and down a battered and bruised Sara.  Thick red blood trickled from her lips, the shortness of her breath revealing internal damage.  

Within seconds the sound of officers rushing forward was heard.  When McMasters saw the uniformed men he brought the gun up to Sara's temple.  

"Hold it!  I swear you'll be cleaning up her guts for days if you move any closer!  I mean it!"  

The officers froze.  McMasters did a 180 turn, scanning the area, making sure he had control of the situation before him, keeping the cold steel trained against Sara's skin.  Then he looked down quickly, swearing loudly.  Bringing the gun to his head to scratch his temple, it was apparent he was thinking of his next maneuver.  Sara felt the quickness to his breathing, heard the hysteria it revealed.  She glanced at Nick who was watching her with intense eyes, eyes that exposed every fear and anxiety he was feeling at that moment.

Having three years experience working as a law enforcement officer, proper procedure for handling a hostage situation ran through Nick's head like a mantra.  No sudden movements.  Allow the assailant to feel as if you are willing to cooperate with him.  But would police procedures really save Sara's life?  If Nick tried to take him down in a quick move and failed, Sara would surely be killed.  McMasters wouldn't hesitate to add another murder onto his record—he had nothing else to lose at that point.  Yet, if Nick followed McMasters' instructions Sara could still get harmed, could still die.  

McMasters let out a heavy sigh and then brought the gun back to Sara's head.  

"Okay, this is what we are going to do.  All you officers are going to slowly set your weapons down on the ground.  I want to be able to see your hands the whole time…"  He spoke through gritted teeth.  The officers did as he said, placing their guns before them, holding their hands up as they rose upright.  "That goes for you too, buddy.  I want to see your gun on the ground _now."  _

Nick half-heartedly cooperated.  

"Great…okay, everyone except _you_," He nodded towards Nick.  "Take ten steps backwards."   

The officers complied, slowly moving backwards in a robotic motion.  

As McMasters took in another quick breath of air, letting it out loudly to reveal his anxiety, Nick watched him with burning eyes, knowing from the moment he saw the man it was the one Sara had pinned all along as the murderer.  Randy McMasters.

"McMasters…"  Nick hoarsely uttered, his voice so low Sara hardly recognized it.

"Well, it seems you know who I am, how only appropriate it would be if you were to tell me your name."  He replied with a cold grin, nudging the gun into Sara's side who grimaced in discomfort and fear.  

"Nick."  He gravely answered, his eyes trained on the man before him.  "Nick Stokes."

"Mr. Stokes," He repeated.  "Well, Mr. Stokes I have a question for you.  Do you know this lady I have right here next to me?  Do you know Ms. Sara?"  

Nick met Sara's eyes, which glistened with sad tears.  She looked right at him, and then mouthed the words 'I'm sorry.'  

Nick mutely nodded in response to McMasters' previous question.

"Oh, good.  Now then, if I were to pull this trigger right here—,"

Nick instinctively took a quick step forward.

"Eh eh eh.  You stay _right_ there."  McMasters ordered, motioning Nick to step back by waving his gun at him.  Bringing the gun back to Sara, he spoke, "Now, as I was saying, if I were to pull this trigger, would you at all care?  Would you care if Ms. Sara, here, gets shot?"

"Of course I would."  Nick said quickly, quietly.

"What's that?  I can't quite hear you."  He spoke, his voice cold and measured.

"Of course I would."  Nick repeated, this time noticeably louder.

"Great!  So, I take it you wouldn't want to compromise her safety in any way.  Well then, may I make a suggestion, Mr. Stokes?  That you cooperate in every way and not do anything sneaky and stupid.  Because we wouldn't want you to get your friend here accidentally get killed, right?"

Nick nodded once again.  

"So what do you want then?"  Nick spoke, his voice low and grave.  

"It's quite simple, really.  I want my daughter."

"Your daughter?"

"Yes, my daughter.  I want Claire.  Get her back to me.  And I want you to provide me with a vehicle to leave.  That Cadillac of mine, it…well, it bit the dust about fifteen minutes ago and now I'm left without transportation.  That will be your job.  Bring me back my daughter and bring me a car."  

"I don't know if I can do that."

"Hmm…well, I don't know if I can keep _her_ alive, then."  He shrugged, yanking Sara's hair with his free hand, pressing the gun further into Sara's temple.  She let out a quiet squeak, trying to pull away from his tight grasp which only made McMasters grip her harder.  

"Okay, okay.  I'll get you a vehicle…"  Nick rapidly interjected.  

"_And Claire."_

Nick hesitated.

"No!"  Sara screamed, wrenching away.  "You _can't_ have her!"

"Now, now Sara."  McMasters spoke condescendingly, easily whipping her limp form back.  "Are you trying to get in the way of a father and his daughter?  Because, as I'm sure you know, the last time someone tried to do that I had to set them straight.  And I must say the result was quite messy."  His words turned into a maniacal laugh, and then as if considering what he just said, his expression became reminiscent, sad…yet malicious at the same time.  It was a face of a madman.

"You're no father."  She hissed, her voice full of venom.

"Hey, I've had about enough of you…do you want me to shoot you?  Huh?  Is that what you want?  'Cause you're just begging for it right now, Ms. Sara."  He spoke directly into her ear, spit flinging from his lips onto her cheeks.  She craned her head away, wincing.

Nick could barely breathe anymore.  If he didn't think he'd run the risk of harming Sara in the process, he would have unloaded twelve rounds into the man's skull by now.

Sara's eyes suddenly were consumed with heated fire.  She gritted her teeth and cried angrily.

"If you're going to shoot me, you better do it now, you worthless piece of trash."  Sara cried through clenched teeth.  "Cause that's the _only way you'll _ever_ get to Claire.  Over my dead body."  _

Nick watched her with absolute astonishment, unable to hide the shocked expression on his face.  

"Sara…"  His voice pleaded, full of caution.

"Go ahead, McMasters.  Shoot me…go ahead…"  She crazily spoke.

McMasters grabbed her hair again and jammed the gun barrel right under her chin.

"Is that what you want?  You want to die, Sara?"  His face was so close to her head, his nostrils flaring with each word.

Nick stared, eyes wide with fear.

"Do it…shoot me!"

"Sara!"  Nick yelled at her.

"Your friend is crazy!"  McMasters called, pushing the gun further into the tense muscles under Sara's chin.  

"You'll never have her!"

"Sara!"

"I'll do it.  I swear to you I'll pull the trigger!"

"Never!  She was _never_ yours!"  

Nick heart felt as if it would leap right out from his chest.  He clenched is fingers in and out of balled fists at his sides, trying to decipher the best moment to do it—to just reach for his gun before him.  "Sara!  Stop it!"  He ordered.

The fury in McMasters eyes seemed to burn into Sara's soul as his attention was fixed on her sudden lunacy.  He gripped the gun, finger steady on the trigger, pushing tighter…tighter…

"You took away her mother.  How could she _ever love you?"  Sara spoke to him, her voice full of hatred._

McMasters jaw tightened and his eyes grew wide with madness as he absorbed Sara's words.

That was the last straw.

Click.

Click.  Click. 

The hammer clicked harmlessly on an empty chamber.  

Sara flinched with each click, even though she knew what the result would be.  

Nothing.

Her gun was not loaded.  She had forgotten to load it before she stepped out of her vehicle, and remembered this fact just moments before she began taunting McMasters.

When McMasters realized the gun was empty, his eyes glazed over.  Sara stumbled away from him as he slowly lowered the gun and let it drop to the ground with a hopeless thud.  

When Nick saw McMasters was shooting blanks he seized the moment as did all the other officers.  Rushing forward they lunged for their weapons. 

In the chaos and hysteria of the moment, McMasters, almost knowing his fate, took the opportunity to harm Sara as much as possible.  His eyes immediately flicked over to Sara who was, at that moment, desperately trying to get away.  His expression burned with rage.  In the split second it took him to charge her, they were on the ground in a tangled mess.

"Whoa, whoa.  Don't shoot!!"  Nick frantically called to the other officers, waving his hand back, trying to focus on the two bodies to see who was who in the dark shadows.  

"Don't sh—,"

But it was too late.  Nick spoke too late.

The unmistakable roar of a gunshot echoed through the thick darkness.  

***************

A/N:  Would I like to see a review from you?  Ummm….YES!  Please let me know what you thought…ANY question?  ANY comments?  Post 'em!  Thanks!  

To Be Continued… 


	17. Dealing: Chapter Seventeen

"Niiick…"

Catherine leaned down next to the chair Nick was crouched down in, placing a gentle hand on his slumped shoulder.  She had already made several attempts to get him to speak to her, yet was unsuccessful.  Nick was a zombie, either unwilling or unable to talk.  

"Nick…honey, I need you to talk to me.  I need to know you are okay."  She spoke very lightly, her words sounding almost fragile enough to break.  She tilted her head, trying to see his eyes which were hidden behind his hands.

When he again made no answer she glanced over at Warrick, who was intensely talking to one of the nurses, his arms waving about.  Catherine couldn't hear exactly what was being said, but by the way the nurse kept shaking her head, she knew Warrick's attempts at gaining updated information on Sara had failed.  

When she first heard the news, she and Warrick were at the lab, filling out paperwork for a case.  

"Oh, no," Catherine gasped after hearing exactly who was in the hospital, after hearing what happened.  Gripping her cell tightly to her ear, she turned to stare at Warrick who had been sitting next to her.  He was watching her with anxious curiosity.  

For a few seconds after Catherine hung up she couldn't speak.   Shock briefly settled over her like a layer of ice.  A few moments later Catherine was able to relay the news to Warrick. Within five minutes, they were at the hospital.  

She rushed down the hospital's corridor, looking frantically for a familiar face.  When she saw the chief of police standing next to a few deputies she immediately hurried up to him.  Catherine and Warrick could only listen, then, as the chief related the horrors that had unfolded earlier that night.  As the chief spoke, confirming the ghastly details, she noticed the sternness and tightness to his voice.  His professional tone had bothered Catherine at first, making her wonder if he was the least bit distraught that one of his local CSIs was in such severe condition.  But when she was filled in on the entire story, she understood his uptight nature.  Sara had been shot.  Shot by one of _his _deputies.  It had been an accident, yet nonetheless the chief knew that he was going to have to take on many questions and criticism not only by his superiors, but the public media as well.  McMasters had been shot and killed as well, but only _after_ the bullet meant for him, missed him and struck Sara.   

Catherine paged Grissom soon after, informing him where they were.  He told her he initially heard the news while on the field, and was already on his way to the hospital when Catherine got a hold of him.

Sighing, Catherine slowly stood from her kneeling position and moved up against an adjacent wall.  She'd give Nick space if that's what he needed right now, although the fact that he hadn't spoken a word since she and Warrick arrived worried her to no end.  As she reached her hand up to massage the back of her neck, she saw Warrick heading back over to them. 

She raised her eyebrows in question to Warrick.  "Anything?"

He sadly shook his head.  He positioned himself right next to Catherine, leaning against the wall, and looked over at Nick for a long moment.  

He tilted his head to whisper to Catherine.

"Has he said anything yet?"  

"No.  I haven't even seen his face.  It's like he's ashamed to show us or something."  She replied.

Their heads both turned back to Nick at the same time, watching him with sympathetic eyes.  

After a long pause Catherine sighed.  "It's as if he's in another world right now…"

Warrick nodded slowly, still watching Nick.  

**********

His hands covered his face, his elbows resting on his knees.  

Barely aware of how he got there, he found himself on upstairs on the fourth floor—the surgical unit.  Waiting.  Hoping.  Praying for Sara to pull through.  

Despite the numbness that enveloped him, the events from the night incessantly flashed through his mind.

She was lying still on the ground.  Bathed in red.  

Immediately Nick rushed forward, dropping to his knees at her side.  A dry, raspy breath escaped her lips, sending a chill of fear through him.  

"Sara…"  He tore his shirt from his back and applied pressure to the gaping wound on her stomach.  Blood soaked through the shirt almost instantly.  Holding the shirt tightly with one hand, Nick brought his other up to Sara's head and gently caressed her matted and clumped hair.  She stirred quietly in his arms. 

"Hold still.  Hold still."  He whispered as her body fell limp again.  Her eyes were glazed, blank and unfocused, flicking around as if she were so disoriented she didn't know where she was.  The way her eyelids sleepily drooped and then opened wide again told Nick she was giving way to unconsciousness.  

"Stay with me, Sara.  It'll be okay."

Her eyes fluttered briefly and then she looked directly into Nick's eyes.  

"I'm so sorry, Sara….You'll be okay…" 

Slowly her eyes closed.

"We need an ambulance!"  Nick turned his head and yelled over his shoulder, his eyes bright with fear and rage as he slowly rocked Sara's weak form. 

"We've got one on the way," A voice responded behind him. 

Nick tightly closed his eyes.  Clenching his teeth, he was unable to hold the gasp that escaped his throat, revealing the emotion that was bursting through his body.  Anger and despair suddenly overcame him and he felt his eyes sting as suppressed tears began to form.  Burying his face into her hair he continued to gently rock her, talking to her softly even though it was obvious she could not hear him.  

**********

Grissom alternated between pacing the small waiting area of the hospital room and peering anxiously down the corridor.  Catherine reached over and yanked on his sleeve.

"Gris, will you come sit down please?"  She spoke firmly then lowered her voice.  "You're making us crazy."

"I can't sit down.  I need to walk."  He spoke with a touch of defensiveness in his tone.

Two hours had passed since the crew arrived at the hospital.  Nick, although still silent, had switched sitting positions more than once.  Conversations were not made.  Each mind was focused primarily on Sara, eager to know what was going on inside the surgery room not too far from where they sat.  Each time a nurse or doctor strode by their eyes anxiously followed them, wondering if this was the one to tell them Sara's fate.  

Warrick's relentless tapping of his foot on the tiled floor drew stares from Catherine, who with a mixture of fatigue and hunger along with desperation and worry made her in the worst way extremely irritable.  Finally she leaned back, inhaling sharply, and slapped her hands on her knees.  Turning to Grissom, who at the moment was standing upright, massaging the bridge of his nose with two fingers, she spoke.  

"Do you want some coffee or anything?  I can't sit here any longer.  This is just ridiculous…you think they would have told us _something by now."  Catherine spoke, trying to sound normal, yet the hitch in her voice revealed her frenzied nature lurked just below the surface.  _

Warrick, in response to her frustration, put a reassuring hand on her back.  He could feel the tension in her body, it practically radiated from her limbs.  She bit back her lip, unable to prevent the tears that slowly began to trickle down her cheeks.  

"God…this is torture."  She sniffed, brushing away her tears quickly.  Grissom cast a heartrending glance in her direction.  Though he was awkward at such things, he did try to comfort her.  After leaving briefly, he came back with a small cup of freshly brewed coffee and handed it over to Catherine.  She smiled weakly, warmly accepting the cup.  Grissom then moved over to the vacant seat next to Nick where his tired body came to rest.  

He glanced sideways at Nick who was staring blankly at the floor with empty, distant eyes.  Watching him with a mixture of sympathy and profound concern, Grissom took in his appearance.  His face was pale and drawn, his weak features exaggerated with the dried caked-on mud from earlier that night.  Hints of Sara's blood remained unwashed on his hands.  

"Nick," Grissom took on a protective tone.  "Maybe I could drive you home…get washed up.  I know Catherine and Warrick would call with any forthcoming information."  

An awkward silence loomed between them.

Nick leaned back, his jaw grim and firm, his eyes suddenly focused, and then looked directly at Grissom.

"I'm not going anywhere."  His words were cold, pained, as he spoke for the first time since arriving at the hospital.  

A bit taken back by his sudden voice, Grissom just stared at Nick.  And then, in complete understanding Grissom nodded, accepting his statement.  "Alright."  

Nick gritted his teeth and tried not to feel the eyes that gazed at him from the hallway.  He knew his co-workers were worried for him, he knew the random people that walked past probably noticed his gruesome appearance, but that, in his mind, did not give them due cause to stare at him.  It made him feel more alone.  It came to him very powerfully, that aloneness, as he sat there, aware of every second that passed.  Gnawing at his stomach was the very possibility that Sara would not make it out.  That she would die in the surgery room.   And it hit him with a harsh certainty—if Sara died, he _would be alone._

Nick wished he could pretend that what happened that night to Sara was the worst thing he'd ever seen happen to anyone.  But he'd have been lying to himself if he thought that.  He'd seen people get shot before.  In much worse ways.  

But he could, without a doubt, say that what he witnessed that night was the worst thing he'd ever personally experienced in his lifetime.  Something about that moment between the brawl among Sara and McMasters, the loud gunshot, and the brief hush that followed, made him feel empty and powerless.  The scenario played through in his mind a million times.  Each time Nick felt like there had to have been a way to prevent what happened to Sara.  He could easily have jumped in, he thought, taken the bullet for her.  He hated himself for the missed opportunity, and if Sara did not make it through the night, he would never forgive himself and he knew he might as well be dead with her.  

At that moment, Nick's stomach churned and he thought he was going to throw up.  The antiseptic smells and the constant motion of the people in the hallway were all of a sudden too much for Nick to bear.  His raw reddened eyes burned more painfully than before, his head throbbed in a hard rhythmic motion.  He attempted to pull himself together, burying his face in both hands, his knees bouncing up and down as his mind tried to focus.  Fragments of noise entered his head and although he wasn't truly listening, he did hear the faint sound of conversation between his co-workers.  

Without catching the entire conversation, Nick heard the last bit of Warrick's words.  

"…she's a fighter.  She's got to pull through.  Somebody has to be able to save her in there."

There must have been something in Warrick's voice, some doubt and hesitation, for Nick, all of a sudden very alert, raised his head and gazed at him, studying his face.  

"You don't think she'll make it, do you?"  He frowned, his face becoming flushed.  "You don't think they'll be able to save her."  

"Now _you wait a second," Warrick snapped defensively.  "I never said that…"  _

But Nick wasn't listening.  His mind was already turning, quickly, spinning out of control…

Just then a portly older man with a stethoscope draped around his neck pushed through nearby doors and began heading past them.  A torrent of emotions surged through Nick as he bolted out of his seat and met the doctor head on.  The doctor abruptly came to a halt, almost tripping over Nick as he blocked his path.

"Sara Sidle…where is she?!"  He demanded loudly.  The doctor, caught off guard, tightened his grip on his files in hand and narrowed his eyes at Nick.

"Excuse me, sir?"  He asked, somewhat annoyed.

By this time the other three CSI's were on their feet, standing cautiously nearby.  

"I need to know what is going on with Sara Sidle.  She was taken into surgery with a gunshot wound nearly three hours ago."  

The doctor pursed his lips together and then looked squarely at Nick.  Something in his eye's told him that he was having a rough night and wouldn't appreciate anyone's adding to his burden.

"Are you family?"  

"What does it matter?  All I want to know is how she is."  Nick answered, his eyes never leaving the doctor's.  

The doctor took a moment to exhale deeply and then brought the file up, fingering through it.  

"Sara Sidle is being moved to ICU.  That's all I can tell you right now."  He said, closing his file and dropping his at side. 

"Well, wh—what happened?  What's her condition?"  Nick argued, desperate for more information.

"Sir, I'm sorry…but that's all I can tell you right now."  The doctor added.

"Well, that's not good enough!"  Nick shouted and the doctor stepped back defensively.  By this time, Warrick had stepped in, standing just behind Nick and holding his arms in an attempt to restrain and hopefully calm him.  The doctor took advantage of this moment and walked past the CSI's, probably on his way to another surgery or patient, leaving Warrick and a heavy breathing Nick standing in the center of the hallway.  

"Listen, we are all scared for Sara.  But we have got to remain intact for each other.  We'll work through this _together_."

Warrick stared at Nick, whose gaze was fixed beyond Warrick's shoulder, as if deep in thought.  Then, suddenly, all the fury Nick was experiencing left him in a rush and he felt weaker than he ever had before.  Slowly he jerked his arms out from Warrick's hold, and wordlessly strode past Catherine and Grissom, who were watching him with suspicious eyes, all the way to the elevator where he stepped inside and allowed the doors to engulf him.

***************

A/N:  I'm so so sorry that it took me so darn long to update this story.  I had finals last week along with a research paper to write and that, unfortunately, had to take priority over chapter seventeen.  So, sorry, to leave you all hanging…but better late than never, right?  

Oh, and by the way, the comments/reviews were fabulous.  I don't know if I ever had so much fun reading them before as I did for last chapter.  Thanks!  You know I love them!  Keep 'em coming!

To be continued…


	18. Dealing: Chapter Eighteen

Wow!  It's been, what, a lifetime since I've posted!?  I'm sorry!  Truly I am…I'll explain more at the bottom of the page!

To all of you who posted reviews, you are amazingly encouraging and thoughtful!  When the story is completed, I'll try and make a page solely for the reviewers!

Dealing:  Chapter Eighteen!

************

Nick was gone from the hospital for twenty minutes.  Earlier at the hospital he had snapped, just a little, but he knew that the people around him were just trying to help.  Still, the eyes of bewilderment and sympathy that followed his every action were becoming too unnerving to handle.  He felt as if he would burst.  He wasn't getting the answers he needed—no one was willing to fill him in on Sara's condition.  He wasn't even allowed to see her.  Not even a peek.  All of that mixed together, coupled with the sobering presence of his co-workers was doing some crazy things to his mind.  Every second was a blow to his sanity.  

So he left.  To seek respite, maybe.  The way his mind was working, or rather not working, he couldn't be sure.  But he knew he needed to get out.   

His mind was a blur as he drove home.  What he felt was no longer sorrow, but anger and frustration.  Mad at the world.  Nick was mad at the world.  

Nick pressed down harder with his foot, wishing that maybe he could outrun all the horror.  

Minutes later, Nick arrived home.  Standing in the shower, he dropped his head, feeling, all at once, the sting and comfort of the hot water as it rushed down his tired body.  In an almost zombie like trance he watched the coppery liquid as it mixed with the water, swirling down into the drain.  

Blood.  

It had been Sara's blood.

Nick brought his wrist up to his mouth, thinking for the second time that night that he might throw up.  

Accumulating anxiety filled his gut, and Nick reached out to grab a hanging towel for balance as he stepped out from behind the shower curtain.  Wrapping the large towel around him, Nick's body was overpowered by weakness.  The hopelessness of the moment weighed heavily on him, physically dragging his body down until he rested on the bathroom floor, his back pressed against the cold wall.  

He couldn't get it out of his head.  His eyes glazed over, he couldn't do anything except remember.  

That night.  The night he and Sara shared together.  The way he consoled her.  The way they talked.  The way they kissed.

She felt so hopeless that night.  She was lost.  She was fighting her personal demons.  And he was there for her.  Helping her through it.  Comforting her.  

And now?

Where was she when he needed her most?  

Not there…not with him.  

Would she ever be there with him again…?

***********

Nick entered through the main entrance of the hospital, his heart already fluttering at the possibility of being able to find out new information at Sara.  He gripped onto all his hope as he, head held high, made his way to the front desk.  He watched with impatient eyes as the front desk clerks moved constantly, taking phone calls, grabbing files, and speaking with people.  

He swallowed hard and then exaggeratingly cleared his throat.  "Excuse me…"  

"It'll be one second, sir."  The woman responded, her eyes preoccupied with a file.

Nick nodded without responding.  _Just be patient, he told himself although his body was screaming inwardly.  Several seconds passed._

"Listen, I—," Nick began again and this time the woman looked up briefly before becoming distracted once again by the ringing phone before her.  Without hesitation she grabbed for the receiver and turned her attention to the phone call.  

Nick breathed deeply, in through his nose, out through the mouth.

The woman held her hand over the speaker and looked at Nick.  "Just one second."  She whispered.  Nick, already jittery and not knowing what to do with his hands, began tapping his fingers without rhythm on the counter.  

Finally, the woman finished the call, but instead of turning her attention to Nick she took out another file and began writing something.  Every muscle in Nick's body tensed in frustration.

"Ok, _hi…"  Nick knocked loudly with his fist on the counter.  The woman's head jerked upwards.  "I'm trying to be a patient man, here, but you see, I've been waiting for hours now on feedback concerning a patient of yours.  If you don't at least acknowledge my request than I'm going to have to come back there and get it myself."  _

The woman cleared her throat, obviously irritated, and nodded.  She forced a smile.  "I was just about to get to you, sir.  Now what did you say the patient's name was?"

"Sara Sidle.  The last I heard she was in ICU."

"Okay."  She turned and pushed her chair backwards towards a computer.  Seconds later she returned to Nick.

"She's still in ICU, however, nothing else has been given to me at this moment.  That's all I can tell you."  

Nick's heart dropped once again and his head sank.  Not wanting to cause a problem he nodded and uttered a "thanks anyway" before turning and moving away from the counter.  

Nick could have gone upstairs, waited with the others until news arrived on Sara's condition.  But he needed space…he needed air.  Walking back through the automatic glass doors he found a dark grassy patch off to the side of the main entranceway, away from the lights of the hospital, to sit down on.  The grass was moist from the earlier rain and as he came to a rest on the ground the wetness and dirt immediately clung to his pants.  He found he didn't care.

Running his fingers through his hair he tried not to reflect back on the day.  Right now, he wanted so badly to feel devoid of all emotions.  He wanted to be free to not think, to not worry, to not feel.  He knew it impossible, yet nonetheless, it was something he wanted.  

Nick rested his arms on his knees and tilted his head back to look at the night sky.  

All seemed silent as he glanced up at the pearl moon. His dark eyes fixed on the crescent shape and he allowed himself to become hypnotized by its radiance. 

Less than twenty four hours ago his world was at ease—all seemed normal.  But now, the world stopped spinning its usual rotation.  Everything was at a halt.  Or at least it seemed that way to Nick.  To him, this was the day the earth stood still.

His eyelids pressed heavily against his dark brown eyes and even though his body was tired he knew he could be in the comfiest bed and still not be able to sleep.  He couldn't sleep, nor did he want to.  Even if his body allowed him to doze off he wouldn't give himself the satisfaction of it all.  To be awake right now was torture for him, every second seemed like an hour, every hour an eternity.  Every piece of time that passed brought uncertainty; Nick was unaware of what lied ahead for him.  But he knew he did not deserve sleep.  To sleep was to momentarily escape from the world.  Blaming himself for what happened to Sara, feeling as if he could have somehow saved her from the bullet, he believed he deserved the waking torture. 

The hospital doors pulled open and Nick's thoughts were interrupted with the chattering of two hospital nurses.  They meandered over to a curb not far from where he sat and leaned against a railing, lost in conversation.  Nick watched as both lit up the cigarette in their hand and seemingly began enjoying their smoke break.  

Nick, not truly interested in listening, only heard a snatch of their conversation, but it was enough to make his head jerk up in attention.

"CSI…" was the first word that he actually heard.

"It was bad.  I got a glimpse of her when they first rushed her into surgery."

"Do they know yet if she's gonna make it?"

"I haven't heard."  She took a drag.  "Gosh, though, there was so much blood.  I've seen bad in my day," She grunted, flicking her cigarette to release the ashes.  "This was bad."

Both women took a long drag at the same time.  Nick continued to watch, his ears pricked.

"Those CSIs…"  The one woman blew out a cloud of smoke as she held the cigarette close to her face, lost in thought.  "Always tryin' to be the hero."  

Nick blinked as a sickening knot rose in his throat.  _Always trying to be the hero, he repeated in his head.  Several scenarios then invaded his thoughts, one of which consisted of him grabbing the lit cigarette out of the nurse's hand, putting it out on her forehead and screaming at her to mind her own business.  _

Nick took in a deep breath, mentally calming himself as the nurses headed back indoors.  He reminded himself that they did not know Sara, and not to take it personal.  

Ten minutes later the hospital doors opened once again.  Nick was still on the ground, his attention focused inwardly, not on the outside world.  Exhaustedly, his arms rested on his knees, his head hanging and eyes closed, his body seemingly being drained of every last ounce of life in him.  The clicks of heels on concrete were only a faint echo of noise as they moved past.  The heels abruptly stopped click clocking, and feeling as if eyes were watching him, Nick lifted his head.  Catherine stood peering into the shadows, as if not one-hundred percent sure of the figure she was gazing at.

"Nick?"  She called out, approaching him.  The corners of her lips turned downward as she came closer, her eyes drooping with a look of concern as she noticed his body sagged over.  

Nick spoke nothing.  

"Hey…"  Her voice was soft.  "We thought you were gone."  

Staring at the ground, Nick slowly nodded his head, not particularly in the mood for conversation.  But he'd be nice, listen to her, talk to her, waste time with her; he was lonely out there, but also reminded himself that he left the waiting room where his co-workers were for a reason.  So he'd keep himself back, allow the wall around him to stay intact.  

"Any news?"  Nick's voice was tight, ragged, as he continued to gaze into the darkness before him.  

Catherine wordlessly shook her head, taking a seat next to Nick on the ground.    

A gentle breeze blew past them, sending wisps of Catherine's hair into her face.  Nick did not feel it.  

"I was just on my way out for a little while.  I was going to take care of some things at the lab and then come back with Greg."  Catherine spoke awkwardly, obviously tense with worry. "Grissoms been trying to get a hold of Sara's parents for a while now.  So far he hasn't had any luck."

After a moment of uncomfortable silence, Catherine ventured, "How're you holding up, Nick?"

_It doesn't matter, was what he wanted to say._

"Okay," he spoke without much emotion, still not meeting her eyes.  

"Are you hungry?  Maybe you should go get something to eat…"

"I'm fine."  He said unconvincingly.  

Catherine looked at him sideways and then let out a deep sigh.  Her heart ached for Nick at that moment.  His eyes were darkly shadowed, not by pain, but by something else.  

Despair.

"You want to talk?  I can stay if you need someone to talk to."  

"No."

"Nick…"  Her voice pleaded.  Nick sat motionless, his body stone-like.  Catherine rubbed her face, searching for the right words to say to get him to bring his guard down.

"Nick," She repeated, trying to get him to focus on her.  "We are all hurting right now.  Every one of us.  Don't think for one second you're alone in this."

Nick sat silent for a second before taking in a breath so deep it made his ribs hurt.  

He exhaled slowly before speaking.  "What if I told you that I could have prevented Sara from getting hurt and didn't.  What if I told you that she didn't have to get shot?  Would you still want to talk to me then?"  

Catherine turned sharply to his downcast face.  "Stop that, Nick.  You _cannot_ blame yourself for what happened to Sara tonight.  It was a horrible accident, but that's just what it was.  An _accident_."  Her voice was low, stern.  

Nick pressed his lips together, not trusting himself to speak.  Catherine leaned closer to Nick, searching him with troubled eyes.  "Listen, I'm not going to pretend to know exactly what you are going through right now.  You and Sara…well, you had something that went deeper than simple friendship.  I could see that.  For goodness sake, just the sight of you would make her eyes light up like I've never seen before."  

Nick slowly turned his eyes on Catherine.

After a slight hesitation he spoke.  "Catherine, I don't know if I can stay here.  I mean…"  He looked away but his eyes weren't focused on any particular thing.  He was looking inward.  "I feel so guilty.  Like I was responsible for what happened…"

Catherine had the urge to jump in, to tell him he was all wrong but knew he, at that moment, just needed someone to listen to him.  

"Sara had this guy pinned all along—I mean, from the beginning her instinct led her to McMasters.  And I was the one who doubted her.  I feel like we could have prevented this, gotten to him sooner if we really tried to.  But we didn't.  We held back."

Catherine nodded but allowed him air to continue.  

"The whole time Sara put those kids before herself.  She didn't even hesitate to go after Claire, to get Claire back."  Nick's voice caught slightly.  He paused before continuing.  "I hate Sara for putting herself in such danger.  But I hate myself even more for not doing something to stop what happened.  I honestly don't know if I can see her in that hospital room." 

Catherine, knowing he had let a lot off his chest, decided to add her two cents.  "What you're thinking is only natural, Nick.  But that doesn't mean it's the truth.  You are in no way responsible."

"Then why can I barely breathe when I think about it?"

"Because you care about Sara.  Because, I think, Sara has claimed a piece of your heart and you've gotten to a point where you put her before yourself.  Maybe that's why you feel the blame.  But you can't go on thinking the way you are."  

They both gazed outward, allowing the silence to permeate their thoughts. 

"Why…"  Nick whispered, his voice shaky.  

Catherine narrowed her eyes at Nick, gazing at him questioningly.  He wiped one eye with the back of his hand.  

"Why Sara?" 

Catherine glanced down, fighting back her own tears.  "I don't know, Nick.  I don't know."

********** 

For the next twenty minutes Catherine and Nick talked about inconsequential things when the silence was too unnerving to bear.  The conversation wandered here and there.  Catherine mentioned that Greg had been calling her and Grissom just about every five minutes to get updates—he was a nervous wreck.  That's half the reason, Catherine explained, why she was going back to the lab.  She was going to pick him up.  The other half, she said, was because the anticipation of being in the waiting room was making her lose it.

The simple drift in conversation was soothing; Catherine did her best to get Nick's mind off the accident.  By talking about something else, anything else, from Catherine's perspective, made Nick breathe easier.  

They rose soon after, Nick deciding to check back with the nurses, Catherine deciding to go ahead and make her trip to the lab.  As they slowly moved to the sidewalk, about to part ways, the hospital doors pulled open and Grissom and Warrick slowly walked out.  

Surprised, Nick frantically searched their faces.  _Why are they leaving?  Were they told something?  _

The color drained from Nick's face.  He stared at his fellow co-workers, his frightened eyes trying to interpret their unreadable expressions.  

Grissom looked up and made eye contact with Catherine, only to then let his face drop, a look of defeated sadness.  

Nick rushed forward to meet them halfway.

"Wh—what's going on?"  He stammered, bracing himself for the worst.  

Warrick sighed and ran a hand through his hair.  "The doctor spoke with us."

Nick felt breath leave his lungs, a suffocating, dread taking its place.

"Well what did he say?"  Nick's tone was frantic.  

Grissom stepped forward.  "It seems as though Sara's vital signs have stabilized.  But she's still unconscious."  Grissom paused.  "They let us see her briefly."

The silence that followed answered any questions that lingered in Nick and Catherine's minds concerning Sara's condition.

"I'm sure they'd let you see her now."  Warrick added.  Catherine turned to Nick and saw the fear in his eyes.  She knew that just as badly as she wanted to see Sara, Nick needed to see her that much more.  Alone.  

Her throat was dry as she spoke.  "Why don't you go ahead.  I'll go get Greg and be back later to see her."

For a moment, each stood silent, unmoving.

************

Almost paralyzed with fear, Nick inched his way slowly, mechanically, inside the small hospital room.  Nothing could have prepared him for what he saw.  Bruised and battered, Sara laid motionless on the bed, tubes and monitors everywhere.  A respirator kept her breathing, and Nick's heart raced twice as fast as the steady beeps coming from the monitor.

Grief gripped him with icy hands and the muscles in his body tensed.  For several moments, Nick just stared at her.  Then he grabbed a chair and placed it next to the bed where he could sit and be close to her.

"Oh, Sara," he whispered.  

Nick wanted to reach out and hold her hand, but he was afraid to hurt her, to touch her.  Instead he leaned closer to her.

"Sara, if anyone can pull through this mess, it's you.  You just have to wake up." He told her, his voice low.  "I need you to wake up."

Nick lifted his head, feeling his vision blur.  His eyes wandered the pale walls of the room.  He was ashamed, ashamed that Sara was kept in a room that room felt so empty, so dead…heartless.  It wasn't right that she was there.  And there wasn't a single thing he could do to change things, to undo what had happened.  It was Nick's worst nightmare.

Nick settled back into the chair, his eyes still studying Sara's face.  

Exhaustion was settling in once again, taking its toll on Nick's body.  Suddenly a wave of emotion crashed down on him, leaving him rubbing his face with both hands, desperately trying to hold back the tears of pain and shock, trying to maintain self-control.  He shook his head repeatedly, considering the bitter irony of life, the general unfairness of it all.  

All of a sudden, every problem, every difficulty he had faced with Sara didn't seem important anymore.  What mattered now, despite everything life had dealt them, was the question of whether they would even be allowed another chance at it all.  

*************

She was floating through an unknown, vast darkness.  The blackness consumed her, cloaking her sight from any objects around her.  Fragments of noise, broken and distorted, came rushing towards her like a rapidly approaching train.  Her ears vibrated with a low, hellish rhythm, and her vision slowly began to clear.  

It was familiar.  She had been here before.

Still, she could not remember where she was or how she got there.

She remembered the glass before it happened.  When it exploded around her, shattering in a blinding rainfall, she opened her mouth to scream, but before any sound came out of her that dream faded.  Soon rematerializing was another dream, yet with different surroundings.  

Faces flashed like a warped, crazed slideshow before her.  Voices swam around her head, some too faint to make out, others as clear as day.  

_"You _can_ talk to me about, you know, whatever. Anything."_

_"With the explosion, and now with this new case….I don't know…maybe you should take some time off."_

_"I just don't know what it is I'm doing that's making you shut me out."_

_"You can trust me, you know."_

_"C'mon, Sara.__ I know there's a smile in there somewhere."_

The words were so familiar.  She heard them all before.  More voices flooded together.

_"I'm just saying that sometimes when you get too involved in a case, things can get too personal, and the result can be….well, messy." _

_"Sometimes you look so serious."_

_"…there is nothing you could say to me right now that would change the way I feel towards you."_

_"Sara, you make me crazy."_

_"Only mom called me Tinkerbell."_

_"…once you give yourself time to take a break, to get away from it all, that's when you begin to appreciate the things around you, rather than dread them."_

_"…look me in the eye and tell me our kiss meant nothing to you."_

_"Are you getting any sleep at all these days?"_

_"Sara, you've got some things that you need to deal with before you come back to work."_

_"He took Claire."_

_"Stay with me, Sara. It'll be okay."_

The words sounded so low, so drawn out, almost as if someone had recorded them and played them back in slow motion.

_"We need an ambulance!"_

The voices began subsiding, so much so that Sara could not form any more clear words.  

Then a bright flash.

Sara began choking on the darkness.  It was like a wave, furiously pulling her back.  

Rushing over her again, the blackness fought to steal her energy.  She felt hopeless against the force.  

Slowly, her arms slumped and she remained motionless, drifting….drifting…

"_Sara…"_

A voice.

It called out to her.  

"_Sara…"_

Pleading.  The voice was pleading with her.

It was Nick's voice.

Struggling, with every ounce of energy, Sara slowly reached her hand out into the darkness, reaching towards the voice…

To Be Continued…

***********

A/N:  You guys, I am so sorry it took me this long to update.  I honestly have been trying to post sooner but life has been getting in the way and I have found less and less time available for my chapters!  I could have posted sooner but I didn't want to throw together a chapter and have it suck so I kind of branched out the sections and took my time with it.  Actually, I was planning on chapter18 being my last but I found I have more to add and can't quite bring myself to finish the story just yet.  Anyways, thanks to my faithful few who return no matter how long I make them wait.  You are why I continue despite everything!  Thanks!  And please review!  Let me know that some of you actually still read this!

**Oh yeah, if some of you are severely confused on the quotes in Sara's dream/coma like state, the "voices" she was hearing are actually quotes from previous conversations involving Sara and someone else(mostly Nick).  If you get a chance, go back and read the chapters if you'd like to see where they came from!


	19. Dealing: The Conclusion

Dealing: The Conclusion

**********

"Mhhm…"  

Catherine, with little strength, lifted her head from its resting position on the cafeteria table.  Narrowing her eyes at Greg, she watched as he shoveled what appeared to be mashed potatoes into his mouth.

"Okay, this has got to be _the_ best food I've ever had," He spoke, mouth full.  

"Well, then I feel sorry for you."  Catherine muttered.  "How can you even eat right now?  My stomach is a bundle of nerves.  Just the sight of food is making me nauseous.  In fact," Catherine eyed Greg's plate beside her and pushed it away from the both of them.  "Get that away from me."

"Hey," Greg defended, reaching to grab his plate back, "I have to keep myself preoccupied with something.  It's helping take my mind off of Sara…and not to mention, _your_ frazzled self." 

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Exactly what I said."  

Catherine rolled her eyes good-naturedly as Greg shoved a spoonful of peas into his mouth.

Minutes later Greg finished his plate of food and leaned back in his chair, patting his mouth with a napkin.

"So, is Nick still here?"  He asked, his face serious.

Catherine nodded.  "I haven't seen him, but my guess is yes.  Visiting hours have been over for awhile, but I'm thinking somehow Nick has managed to keep himself in Sara's room."

Greg looked down at his watch, fidgeting with it nervously at the same time.  "How much longer until I can see her?"

"The next visitor hour is at 7 a.m.  Not long at all."  

Greg nodded and paused for a long moment before looking back up at Catherine, his eyes full of deep sadness.   

"Um, when…" He took a second to clear his throat. "When Sara pulls through from all this…we, uh, we should give her some sort of honorary ceremony.  You know, for what she did for Claire." 

Catherine replied with a sad smile.  Her chair creaked as she shifted forward, resting her hand lightly on Greg's shoulder and giving it a reassuring squeeze.  

"Yeah," Her voice was husky with emotion. "I think we should."

It wasn't Greg's suggestion that made Catherine want to cry at that moment.  It was his confidence that Sara would pull through.  "When"_ was the word he used.  But she knew as much as Greg did that it wasn't a matter of "when" but of "if."  _

***********

As he dozed, Nick was still aware in some distant, dreamy way of the sounds of the hospital all around him.  He was fading in and out of sleep, lulled by the steady beep of monitors, the faint hissing of the respirator, and the quiet sound of whispered voices and feet, scuffing by in the corridor.

The doorknob clicked and opened with a drawn-out creak.  Nick, suddenly awake and alert, lifted his head to see Catherine and Greg enter, followed by a elderly nurse.  The nurse studied him with a confused expression, probably wondering why he was in there before visiting hours. However, her apparent confusion didn't seem enough to keep her in the hospital room.  She whispered something to Catherine before turning and heading back out, closing the door gently behind her.  

"Hey."  Catherine whispered ever so lightly to Nick as she and Greg moved further into the room.  Nick simply nodded in response.

Greg, unable to tear his eyes from Sara's limp and bruised body, cautiously walked up to her bed and sat on the edge.  

"Hey, Sara," he said quietly, reaching out to touch her arm.  He suddenly shivered and drew back, his eyes turning to Nick.  "She's so cold," he whispered.  

Nick tightened his lips together and resisted the urge to close his eyes.  Instead he allowed his gaze to become fixated on the linoleum hospital floor.

Catherine cleared her throat, desperate for words to break the unnerving silence.  "I, uh, spoke with the doctor a few minutes ago.  He said they successfully removed the bullet from Sara's abdomen with no further damage to tissue.  He believes it's only a matter of time before she wakes up."

Catherine, already having been with Nick most of the night, seeing him go through a torrent of emotions, spoke those words to comfort Nick.  And even though what she said was mostly true, the doctor mentioned that the longer Sara's stay in her unconscious state, the worse her chance of pulling through.  Catherine made a mental note to keep that part of the discussion to herself.  

"You know, I heard once that it's good to talk to people during their comatose state.  Some people believe they can actually hear you."  Greg spoke.

Catherine nodded.  "I've heard that before."

Slowly Greg turned back to Sara.  "Sara, it's me, Greg…" 

Catherine met Nick's solemn eyes over Greg's head.  They held hers for a moment, then turned away, saddened. 

"Listen, Sara," Greg continued. "We are all going crazy here without you.  You're giving everyone at the lab quite a scare right now.  We need you to come back to us.  You're a fighter, Sara, and if anyone can pull through this, it's you."  Greg then smiled weakly before continuing.  "Besides, how else will you be able to meet my girlfriend who you've been teasing me about?"  

Staring up at the ceiling with her tear brimmed eyes, Catherine let out a shaky breath and smiled at Greg's sincerity.  She took in a deep breath before moving towards Sara.  Greg moved over slightly giving Catherine room.

"Hey, honey," She began, taking in Sara's shallow breathing, her blue-tinged complexion. She gingerly took Sara's hand in hers, squeezing her motionless, cold fingers.  "You need to hurry back to us.  The earth just isn't the same without your smiling face.  So, wake up soon.  We will all be here for you.  We'll stay with you as long as…" Catherine swallowed hard.  "As long as it takes, honey."

Nick watched closely, clinging to all hope, eager to detect a movement from Sara.  A blink of the eyelids, perhaps a twitch of her lips, even just a slight change in the rhythmic rise and fall of her breathing.  

There was nothing.  

After another hour or so Catherine and Greg left the hospital, confirming to Nick that they'd be back as soon as possible.  Nick considered leaving as well, but only for a moment.  He was tired, and felt that his being at the hospital was almost useless.  But after giving it little thought, he knew that if he were in Sara's place, the one face he would want to see when he woke up would be hers.  He could only pray that she would feel the same way.  

************

Nick remained at Sara's bedside for days on end when visiting hours would allow.  Even at times he was able to stay past regulated hours.  He returned home only to briefly shower and change clothes, and sometimes he would grab a quick soda or protein bar to quench his hunger.  The days became a blur, molding into each other, remarkable only in their similarity.  At times Nick was overwhelmed with despair, with hopelessness, when no sign of improvement was seen.  But yet, he sensed that Sara was fighting it.  That deep inside her, there was an awareness of self, and it was that belief that he was clinging to desperately.

He talked to her constantly, as Greg and Catherine did days before.  He would fill her in on all the latest with the people they worked with back at the lab, updated her on new cases, read to her, told her stories about himself, even allowed himself to share things with her never spoken aloud to anyone before, hoping that somewhere she could hear him and know that he was there for her. 

Grissom, Catherine, Warrick, Greg and others from the lab made frequent visits to the hospital to see Sara and to be updated on her unchanging condition.  Greg, like he promised, came twice with his girlfriend, Lena, who although did not know Sara personally, brought her a basket full of goodies, including a hairbrush and makeup for when/if Sara woke up in the hospital, a collage of newspaper clippings telling of Sara's heroicness, and various snack foods that Greg knew Sara would enjoy.  

Nick sat by himself on a Monday morning at Sara's side simply watching her.  He remembered a time, rather a few times, when he and Sara had fought over something…something so meaningless now that it made him wish he could go back and change everything about those moments.  Sara was stubborn and wouldn't talk to Nick about her nightmares.  Nick had been selfish in wanting her to share everything about her personal life with him.  Arguments followed and bitterness loomed.  And now, those arguments were something that had wasted time, time looked upon as precious only now that Nick was not guaranteed any more encounters with Sara.  He regretted the fights.  He regretted not expressing to her how he truly felt.  He regretted not doing everything in his power to make them work.  

The cardiac monitor hummed the only sound in the pale hospital room.  For a few minutes, Nick just sat quietly, his mind full of melancholy thoughts.  

He then brought his eyes back to Sara.  He lifted a shaky hand and lowered it until his fingertips touched her forearm.  His hand then traveled up her arm, along her shoulder, traced her ear until finally reaching her face.  He ran his fingers along her jaw line, his heart being filled with an immeasurable desperation as he realized just how crucial every second was that passed them.  He closed his eyes needing to absorb the moment.  

After several seconds he then rested his warm palm against her cold cheek, softly calling her name.  

"Please come back to me," he added.  "I need you."

****************

She had been struggling for what seemed like a thousand eternities, hearing the same voice that called to her, desperately trying to respond.  But now, everything slowly began to take shape, the words forming clearly, the voice growing louder.  It was a familiar voice, a voice she heard almost everyday for the past several years.  And now, hearing it made her heart ache.  Hearing it made every cell in her body willing to cry out to the voice.  

"_I need you."_

****************

Nick, deciding to retire for the night, pushed back his chair.  He gave Sara's hand a final squeeze and rose from his seat, about to head home.  He turned toward the exit door in Sara's room but then froze.  Did he just imagine that sound?  

He looked behind him at Sara's motionless body and peered fixedly at her form.  Then, he turned back to her and moved ever so slowly, hopeful, wishing for a slight movement, wishing it wasn't just in his imagination that he heard a faint rustling in her bed.  He didn't dare take his eyes off her.  

"Sara?"  He whispered.

Right then, Nick's breath caught in his throat.

Sara's eyes fluttered open to the fluorescent lights and she winced against the glare.  Her expression was dull, her eyes a blank.  Nick held his breath.

Finally a consciousness flashed in her eyes and they finally focused on Nick, meeting his desperately intense stare.  Nick began to breathe again.

"Sara, can you hear me?"  

Her mouth moved slightly.  "Nick…"  She finally breathed out.

"I'm here..."

Wild emotion surged through Nick and he reached for the call button on the side of Sara's bed.  

"The doctor is coming.  You're going to be fine."  

He clasped her hand into his and then reached out to stroke her hair.  "You're going to be fine," he repeated aloud, reassuring not only Sara but himself as well as she grimaced against the pain in her body.

*************

It was Tuesday morning.  The day after Sara officially became alive again.  

Burrowed deep beneath her pure, white sheets, Sara stirred, blinking as she slowly became aware of the world around her.  Her eyes were barely slits, yet the first thing she noticed was the open window and the flowing curtains which were made alive with the gentle wind outside.  Sara took in a deep lungful of fresh air.  

"Well, look who decided to wake up," Warrick spoke, his tone lighthearted, happy.

Sara, still groggy from sleep, hadn't realized the people crowded in her hospital room.  She turned to them, giving them a sheepish look.  Everyone was there…at least, everyone she cared deeply for: Catherine, Grissom, Warrick, Greg (another female who Sara presumed to be Lena, Greg's girlfriend, the one whose gift basket she vaguely remembered sifting through the previous night in a sort of drugged out haze).

And then there was Nick.  He stood next to Catherine to Sara's left, looking about as confident as a shy little boy.  

"We thought the pain medication would hold you out for at least another few hours."  Grissom spoke.  "But then again, we _are dealing with Sara Sidle here.  Nothing seems to keep you down for too long," he added with a wink.  _

Nick looked up from the ground and tried to read Sara's expression on her face.  There seemed to be a bit of sadness there, though a tiny smile played around the corners of her mouth. 

"How are you feeling, honey?" Catherine asked, her concerned eyes trained on Sara.

Sara sighed before speaking.  "I'm tired.  But I'm feeling good.  Really."   

Catherine smiled, nodding.

"I'm glad you all are here.  Though, I have to admit, I'd probably enjoy this moment a lot more if I wasn't stuck in this thing."  She said, referring to her bed.

"Give it a day or two.  You'll be outta here in no time."  Greg confidently remarked.  

"I hope so…"  Sara's voice trialed off as she looked downwards, an almost embarrassed expression sweeping across her features.  "By the way," she lifted her head in Lena's direction. "Thank you for the basket.  That was great of you to go to all that trouble."

"Oh, please," Lena immediately replied, her hand waving away Sara's statement. "It was the least I could do.  Don't think of it."  

Sara took a breath and glanced around at her friends once again, a little overwhelmed with their presence.  Her eyes settled on Nick.  She thought a couple of times Nick looked as if he was going to say something, but each time his expression turned thoughtful again, and he remained mostly silent.  The others were quick to pick up on this and gave each other silent looks that spoke volumes without words.  

Finally, Catherine made the first move to leave.  She moved forward to Sara with a sincere smile on her face.  "We're glad you're awake, sweetie.  We missed you."  She squeezed Sara's hand and gave her a peck on her head before turning around and winking at Grissom.  

"Yeah, and as soon as you heal up, I want you back at the lab," Grissom added with mock firmness and then his expression softened.  "It just isn't the same without you."  He, too, turned and followed Catherine out of the room.  Warrick, Greg, and Lena followed suit, expressing their joy at Sara's progressive recovery and reassuring her that they'd be back to see her soon.  Sara watched each leave and when all were gone she slowly glanced back to Nick.  Nick looked down at his shoes a few times, each time appearing more vulnerable when his eyes would travel back to Sara.  

Sara shivered and Nick took a step forward, concerned.  "You want me to close the window?"  

"No, please don't.  It's too beautiful outside."  Sara replied.

_Too beautiful_, Nick repeated in his head, his eyes now focused on Sara.

Sara smiled, although it looked as if it took her great strength to do so.  Her smile was pained.

Nick, suddenly feeling foolish and self-conscious about him being there spoke up, "I can leave if you'd like."

"I don't want you to leave," Sara answered, her voice quiet, yet matter-of-fact.

"Okay," Nick gently answered and walked closer to Sara, pulling a chair close to her bed and sitting down.  He reached in his pocket. "I almost forgot," he said while tossing a pink envelope in Sara's lap.  

Sara squinted her eyes at Nick, furrowing her brow.  "What..what is this?"

"Open it."

Sara slowly picked up the envelope and pulled out a small letter, unfolded it and began reading.  It was a note given to Nick to give to Sara.  The note was a "thank you" from Claire.  Despite how frail Sara seemed, how tentative her every motion, a light danced in her eyes as though she had a new energy coursing through her as she read.  Her smile was gentle as she finished and began refolding the note, placing it back in the pink envelope.

"Claire." She nodded, explaining to Nick who wrote the note.

"You're her hero."  

Sara swallowed and closed her eyes when she did it, as though that simple act hurt her.  When she opened them again, however, and looked at Nick, the sparkle had not left her eyes.  

"I'm glad she's doing well," Sara added and then hesitated, turning serious again.  "I, uh, heard that um….McMasters…."  Sara paused, not being able to bring herself to speak of the man.

Nick, knowing where she was going with her words, nodded in reply.  "Yeah…he's gone."  

Sara looked down at her stomach, the area where a large bandage was placed.  "So, I guess he nicked me pretty good, that officer."  She spoke with a small laugh.  "It's sort of like a permanent badge of honor, you know?"

It lifted Nick's heart a bit to hear her humor.  "Yeah, sort of."  He replied, praying for her healing, thanking God for her safety. 

He paused.  "You know, you gave me quite a scare there, Ms. Sidle."  

"Nick Stokes doesn't get scared."  She joked half heartedly.  

"Oh yes," he nodded, his tone serious, his eyes not leaving Sara's. "Yes he does."  

She met his gaze, and was a little surprised when he reached for her hand, gently intertwining her fingers with his.

"So, how are you _really_ feeling?" he asked.

"I already said I'm good."

"I know what you _said_."

"You think I'm lying?"

"Are you kidding?  I can read you like a book."  Nick replied, his tone soft.

Sara took a long pause, allowed her gaze to become fixated on the window behind Nick.  Her eyes welled up, but she continued to stare, unblinking.  

Nick gave her time.

Finally, her breath came out in a single, audible hitch. "I'm sorry."  

He felt a sharp tug at his heart.

Nick recognized the tone.  It was a tight, controlled, I-don't-want-to-cry sound and although he'd heard it from Sara before, it still held the power to stir up emotion in him.  It scared him.

"Sara?"  He whispered, willing her to look at him.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled again.  "I'm a little overwhelmed right now.  I mean, it's like everything came to a head and now I'm left with a bullet wound, scars, and the possibility that my nightmares will not only _not_ go away, but grow more intense."

"No, I don't believe that at all.  Yes, you have wounds, but they'll heal.  You did something so amazing that night that most people could only dream about being so heroic.  You saved a life that night, Sara, can't you see that?" He pleaded.

Sara looked up at him through blurred vision.

"And as for your nightmares.  I don't know what to say about that except I will be there every second of the day for you.  We'll get through this…together."  Nick squeezed her hand for emphasis.

Not for a second did his eyes leave hers when he spoke and for the first time in a while, Sara truly believed every word he uttered.  In fact, a relief washed over her and her tears began to dry.

She opened her mouth to say something but was interrupted when the hospital door swung open.  They both looked over to see a nurse walk in holding a tray with both hands.

"G'morning, Ms. Sara."  The nurse nodded, walking over to a metal stand and placing the tray atop.  "Hello, Mr. Stokes."  She smiled towards Nick and Sara suspiciously narrowed her eyes at him.  Nick grinned sheepishly.

The nurse then poured a mixture together inside a cup and stirred it with a small stick.  While stirring she took a second to turn towards Sara.  

"I just want to add, if I may, that I've never seen someone spend so long waiting for someone at the hospital before.  Night and day, day and night, that boy was here.  You must be something special, Ms. Sidle."  She winked and then grabbed the cup, along with two rather large pills and headed to Sara's bedside.  She reached her hands out to Sara and Sara took both the drink and the pills.

"I know it's gross, but you have to take them.  I've left you an extra cup of water on that table to wash it down with."  

Nick smiled at the nurse and she turned to leave the two alone.  Before closing the door behind her the nurse added, "And as much as I'd love to let you spend every waking moment with her, Mr. Stokes, I can only allow you another fifteen minutes.  I've already bent the rules enough with you."

"I know.  Thank you, Dolores."  Nick called out as she softly closed the door.

"Well, it looks as if you've made a friend."  Sara raised an eyebrow at Nick.   

Nick chuckled and then shrugged.  "She sort of reminds me of my grandmother."

As she lifted her hands to look at the pills she wrinkled her nose.  "They're like horse pills."

"They help with the pain.  You need them."

"Yeah, and you know how they help with the pain?  They knock you out for like ten hours so you can't feel a thing.  They might as well give me a tranquilizer shot."  

"C'mon, Sara.  You're a trooper…just take them."  Nick urged gingerly.  

He then watched as Sara popped in both pills, taking a sip of the thick liquid medicine in between, cringing all the while.  

"Alright," he coached. "Good job."

Sara laughed lightly, feeling silly.  Nick then reached for her water and after taking the empty medicine cup from her, handed her the new full cup.  "Here, this will be refreshing."

Sara sipped lightly and then turned to Nick with a smirk on her face.

"Don't start this protectiveness thing, alright?"

"With you?  I've never been able to do it before, why start now?"  Nick replied, watching her expectantly.  She blushed a little, falling silent for a moment.

"So, you've been here a lot, huh?  You were here for me when I was unconscious…"  Sara let the words hang in the air as a sincere look spread on her face.

Nick nodded humbly, looking down at the ground.

"You know I heard you.  I can't even explain how, but I feel like you drew me back."  Sara shook her head slowly, remembering.  "I heard you, Nick," she whispered.  

Nick closed his eyes, recalling the nights he spent at the hospital, willing everything in his body to bring her back.

Sara with sad eyes watched Nick, his head down, his presence so vulnerable and weak all of a sudden.  She reached out to touch his cheek and Nick leaned into her hand, closing his eyes.  She closed her eyes as well.

"I was so scared, Sara. I thought I'd lost you for good," he whispered.  Nick then gently took her hand with both of his and kissed it lightly, then used her fingers to brush the tears from under his eyes.  "I'm not going to let you go this time."

"Promise?"  She asked, her eyes still closed, taking in the moment.

"Yeah, this time…we'll do things right." Nick replied, his voice low.

Sara opened her eyes and they locked on his.  The kiss that followed was soft, Nick being careful with Sara's weakness.  But it expressed the emotion that had been welling up inside them both.  It was perfect.  

Nick slowly sat back in his chair, taking Sara's hand into his once again.  The corners of her mouth were turned upward, resulting in a glowing joy illuminating from her face.  Her eyes blinked heavily and Nick knew she was slowly losing the battle with the medication.  She looked very much drained and as she sighed, it looked as if was just a chore to do so.  

"Go to sleep," he whispered.  He ran his thumb along her cheek and she blinked several times before allowing her eyes to finally close.  

The moment was precious, sitting there, watching the woman he was falling in love with sleep peacefully after such a traumatic experience for the both of them.  Never did he experience such liberty.  The last month of turmoil they shared together slipped away like a fading musical chord, floating off into the realm of the irretrievable past.

Nothing mattered.

Nothing mattered at all but this moment.  

Just him and Sara and the future.

It was truly bittersweet.

THE END

*Okay, so apparently I shouldn't do a "thank you's" page because I don't want to run the risk of getting yanked off by ff.net.  So, for all of you out there who ever wrote me a review I want to give my sincere gratitude!  You rock!  And, if you could, please leave your e-mail address on the next review…who needs a 'thank you' page when you have e-mail!  

And yeah, if you feel the need to write a review (in my opinion, if you ask me, YES YOU DO FEEL THE NEED, okay, ahem, sorry…anyways) write one.  I look forward to it!  Thanks!


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